For what she lacked in appearance, Sheila compensated in gossip. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. ’ ‘So would you run away,’ she uttered impulsively. ' That's your signal. Poe is all right, if you don't mind nightmares. ” “I haven’t told any one the amount,” he went on. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park.
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