They have been
strangely private in their habits.
Philip Hardin's brow is set. It is no time for trifling. He sends
his name up to Madame de Santos. She begs to be excused. "Would
Judge Hardin kindly call in the evening?"
This would be after a council of war of his enemies. It must be
prevented. He pens a few words on a scrap of paper, and waits with
throbbing pulses,
"Madame will receive him." As he walks upstairs, he realizes he has
to face a reckoning with Joe Woods. He will make that clumsy-headed
Croesus rue the day. And yet Woods is in the State Senate, and may
oppose his election.
With his eyes fixed on the doors of Natalie's apartment, he does
not notice Woods gazing at him, from the end of the hall, in the
open door of the portico.
Natalie motions him to a seat as he enters. He looks at her in
amazement. She is not the same woman who entered that court-house.
He speaks. The sound of his own voice makes him start.
"What is all this devil's tomfoolery? Explain it to me. Are you
mad?" His suppressed feelings overmaster him. He gives way to an
imprudent rage.
"Are you ready to marry me? Are you ready to keep the oath you
swore to stand by me?" Her dark eyes burn into his heart.
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