Pausing at each door on the landing, Jack placed his ear to the keyhole, and listened intently. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black. ’ ‘What offer?’ she asked, suspicion rife in her voice. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. ! He’ll come a cropper one of these days, if you ask me.
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