Bannister, or Holloway, as he chose to call himself, was at the
bar with his lieutenants in evil when the note reached him. He
read it with a satisfaction he could not conceal. So! He had
brought her already to her knees. Before he was through with her
she should grovel in the dust before him.
"I'll be back in a few minutes. Do nothing till I return," he
ordered, and went jingling away to the Elk House.
The young woman's anxiety was pitiable, but she repressed it
sternly when she went to meet the man she feared; and never had
it been more in evidence than in this hour of her greatest
torture. Blithely she came forward to meet him, eye challenging
eye gayly. No hint of her anguish escaped into her manner. He
read there only coquetry, the eternal sex conflict, the winsome
defiance of a woman hitherto the virgin mistress of all assaults
upon her heart's citadel. It was the last thing he had expected
to see, but it was infinitely more piquant, more intoxicating,
than desperation. She seemed to give the lie to his impression of
her love for his cousin; and that, too, delighted his pride.
"You will sit down?"
Carelessly, almost indolently, she put the question, her raised
eyebrows indicating a chair with perfunctory hospitality.
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