"Then open the second door down the corridor in about twenty minutes,"
she said.
She moved away and left him to join the others about the stove, until
the time she mentioned had elapsed, when he sauntered out of the room
and opened the door she had indicated. It led into a little room
apparently used as a household store. Here Ailly Blake was standing,
while a litter of forks, spoons, and nickeled knives showed what her
occupation had been. Courthorne sat down on a table and looked at her
with a little smile, though she stood intent, and quivering a little.
"Well," she said, almost harshly, "what is it you want?"
Courthorne laughed. "Need you ask? Is it astonishing that I was
anxious to see you? I don't think it's necessary to point out that you
are quite as good to look at as ever."
The girl's lips trembled a little, and it was evident that she put a
constraint upon herself.
"You haven't changed either," she said bitterly. "You have still the
smooth tongue and the laugh in your eyes that should warn folks against
it. I listened to it once, and it brought me black shame and sorrow."
"I almost fancy, Ailly, that if I wanted you to very much you would
listen again."
The girl shrank from him a little and then straightened herself
suddenly and faced him with a flash in her eyes.
"No," she said. "Once I would have put my hand in the fire for you;
but when you left me in that dance house I knew all there was to know
of you,--and I hoped you might never come in my way again.
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