• 2017/6/21

I’d like you to remember this

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Gallatin had stood with head bowed before the door through which Jane had disappeared. His ears were deaf to Loring’s tirade; but as he realized the terms of the indictment, he raised his head, stepped suddenly forward, his fists clenched, his eyes blazing into those of the older man, scarcely a foot away. In Phil Gallatin’s expression[246] was the dumb fury of an animal at bay, a wild light in his eyes that was a personal menace. Loring did not know fear, but there was something in the look of this young man who faced him which told him he had gone too far. Gallatin’s right arm moved upward, and then dropped at his side again.

“You—you’ve said enough, Mr. Loring,” he gasped, struggling for his breath. “Almost more than is good—for both—for either of us. You—you—you’re mistaken, sir.&rdquo reenex facial;

And then as though ashamed of his lack of control he turned aside, and took up his hat. Henry Loring strode to the wall and pressed his thumb to a bell.

“I’ll stand by my mistakes,” he said more calmly. “You came to the wrong house, Mr. Gallatin, and I think you won’t forget it. , too, and I’m a man of my word. You keep your fingers off my affairs, either business or personal, or I’ll make New York too hot to hold you,” and then as the man appeared, “Hastings, show this gentleman out!”

As she turned and came into the room again, Jane Loring met her in the middle of the rug, seized her in her arms, kissed her rapturously on both cheeks, and confessed, though not without some hesitation, the object of her visit. Nellie Pennington led her to a divan near the window, and seated there holding one of her visitor’s hands in both of hers, listened enchanted to the full tale of Jane’s romance. Her delight was undisguised, for Nina Jaffray’s rather frigid exit had already been forgotten by them both.

“Oh, Nellie, I’m so happy. I simply had to tell somebody. I wanted to come here yesterday, but I couldn’t muster up the courage.”

“And I’m not really ‘odious’?” asked Mrs. Pennington.

“No, no,” laughed Jane. “You’re a sister to the angels. I hated him, Nellie, that night. I would have died rather than let him know I cared for him—and yet—I did let him know it——”

“Love and hate are first cousins. Love hates because it’s afraid, Jane nu skin.”

“Yes, that’s true. I was afraid of myself—of him——”

“Not now?”

“No,” proudly. “Not even of Fate itself. We’ll face whatever is to come—together. I believe in him—utterly.”

[191]

Nellie Pennington kissed her.

“So do I, Jane. I always have—and in you. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you have told me all this. Flattered, too, child. I’m rather worldly wise, perhaps, even more so than your mother&mdash —”

 

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