Well, it
can't be helped, Shirley. Don't cry, my dear. I know it's terrible,
but--there, there my love. Do brace up. Poor devil! For all his
damnable treatment of me, I wouldn't have had this happen for a
million dollars."
Shirley burst into wild weeping. Bryce's heart leaped, for he
understood the reason for her grief. She had sent him away in anger,
and he had gone to his death; ergo it would be long before Shirley
would forgive herself. Bryce had not intended presenting himself
before her in his battered and bloody condition, but the sight of her
distress now was more than he could bear. He coughed slightly, and
the alert Colonel glanced up at him instantly.
"Well, I'll be hanged!" The words fell from Pennington's lips with a
heartiness that was almost touching. "I thought you'd gone with the
train."
"Sorry to have disappointed you, old top," Bryce replied blithely,
"but I'm just naturally stubborn. Too bad about the atmosphere you
thought cleared a moment ago! It's clogged worse than ever now."
At the sound of Bryce's voice, Shirley raised her head, whirled and
looked up at him. He held his handkerchief over his gory face that
the sight might not distress her; he could have whooped with delight
at the joy that flashed through her wet lids.
"Bryce Cardigan," she commanded sternly, "come down here this
instant.
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