But a man's arm barred her progress,
and with a cry she drew back. The next moment she reeled as she stood,
reeled gasping till she slipped and slid to the floor at his feet. The
man upon the threshold was her husband!
CHAPTER XIII
In silence he lifted her and laid her again upon the bed. His touch was
perfectly gentle, but there was no kindness in it, no warmth of any sort.
And Nan turned her face into the pillow and sobbed convulsively. How
could she tell him now?
He began to walk up and down the tiny room, still maintaining that
ominous silence. But she sobbed on, utterly unstrung, utterly hopeless,
utterly spent.
He paused at last, and poured some water into a glass.
"Drink this," he said, stopping beside her. "And then lie quiet until I
speak to you."
But she could neither raise herself nor take the glass. He stooped and
lifted her, holding the water to her trembling lips. She leaned against
him with closed eyes while she drank. She was painfully anxious to avoid
his look. And yet when he laid her down, the sobbing began again, though
she struggled feebly to repress it.
He fetched a chair at last and sat down beside her, gravely waiting till
her breathing became less distressed. Then, finding her calmer, he
finally spoke:
"You need not be afraid of me, Anne. I shall not hurt you."
"I am not afraid," she whispered back.
He sat silent for a space, not looking at her.
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