Maisie
was furious with him and with herself.
She was hurried on from Dover to London almost before she could ask for
breakfast, and--she was past any feeling of indignation now--was bidden curtly
to wait in a hall at the foot of some lead-covered stairs while Torpenhow went
up to make inquiries. Again the knowledge that she was being treated like a
naughty little girl made her pale cheeks flame. It was all Dick's fault for
being so stupid as to go blind.
Torpenhow led her up to a shut door, which he opened very softly. Dick was
sitting by the window, with his chin on his chest. There were three envelopes
in his hand, and he turned them over and over. The big man who gave orders was
no longer by her side, and the studio door snapped behind her.
Dick thrust the letters into his pocket as he heard the sound. "Hullo, Torp! Is
that you? I've been so lonely."
His voice had taken the peculiar flatness of the blind. Maisie pressed herself
up into a corner of the room. Her heart was beating furiously, and she put one
hand on her breast to keep it quiet. Dick was staring directly at her, and she
realised for the first time that he was blind.
Shutting her eyes in a rail-way carriage to open them when she pleased was
child's play.
Pages:
1053
1054
1055
1056
1057
1058
1059
1060
1061
1062
1063
1064
1065
1066
1067
1068
1069
1070
1071
1072
1073
1074
1075
1076
1077