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Chapter 30

           There—therebeforemeinthefullmoonlight,withthecoloursoftheredandbluerobesofthepaintedsaintsonthewindowglowingblood-likeandazureabouther,kneltmywife—arrayedinadiaphanousgarmentoffilmywhitewhichbetrayedratherthanconcealedtheoutlineofherform—herwealthofhairfallingaboutherinwilddisorder—herhandsclaspedinsupplication—herpalefaceupturned;andabovehertoweredthedarkimposingfigureofLucio!Istaredatthetwainwithdryburningeyes—whatdidthisportend?Wasshe—mywife—false?Washe—myfriend—atraitor?

           "Patience——patience!——"Imutteredtomyself—"Thisisapieceofactingdoubtless——suchaschancedtheothernightwithMavisClare!——patience!——letushearthis——thiscomedy!"And,drawingmyselfcloseupagainstthewall,Ileanedthere,scarcelydrawingbreath,waitingforhervoice—forhis;—whentheyspokeIshouldknow——yes,Ishouldknowall!AndIfastenedmylooksonthemastheystoodthere—vaguelywonderingeveninmytenseanguish,atthefearfullightonLucio’sface—alightwhichcouldscarcelybethereflectionofthemoon,ashebackedthewindow—andatthescornofhisfrowningbrows.

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