. . . The _Niobrara_ anchored in Widgeon Bay
yesterday; and Alixe is aboard, and her husband is in New York, and
Rosamund says he means to divorce her in one way or another! Ugh! the
horrible little man with his rings and bangles!"
She shuddered: "Why, the mere bringing of such a suit means her social
ruin no matter what verdict is brought in! Her only salvation has
been in remaining inconspicuous; and a sane girl would have realised
it. But"--and she made a gesture of despair--"you see what she has
done. . . . And Phil--you know what she has done to you--what a mad risk
she took in going to your rooms that night--"
"Who said she had ever been in my rooms?" he demanded, flushing darkly
in his surprise.
"Did you suppose I didn't know it?" she asked quietly. "Oh, but I did;
and it kept me awake nights, worrying. Yet I knew it must have been all
right--knowing you as I do. But do you suppose other people would hold
you as innocent as I do? Even Eileen--the sweetest, whitest, most loyal
little soul in the world--was troubled when Rosamund hinted at some
scandal touching you and Alixe.
Pages:
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509