of her breast to be so
bruised. And that kiss--that endless kiss--she had dreamed of kisses
such as this through a hundred wakeful nights....

Sophy had returned within ten minutes of Belinda's coming. She, too, had
asked Simms where Mr. Loring was, and to her also Simms had replied that
Mr. Loring was in the library, he believed--that Miss Horton had just
arrived and joined him there.

Sophy, too, had gone down the long room towards the library. It was
barely dusk. She could see into the further apartment as plainly as
Belinda had done. What she saw was the girl in Loring's arms, and his
head just lifting from that prolonged kiss. She stopped, transfixed, her
breath inheld.

"You imp ... you witch...." Loring was muttering unsteadily.

"But a '_white_ witch'?" cooed the girl.

Sophy heard him laugh low--that exultant, soft laugh which had once so
charmed and disturbed her in the days of their love. "No, by God! ... a
red witch ... colour of blood ... colour of my heart ... flame-colour
... little devil's colour...."

The passion-broken words fell about Sophy like drifting sparks, as she
hurried away from them in an anguish of panic lest she should be
glimpsed by one or the other of those oblivious, hot lovers.

When she reached her bedroom she was breathless mentally and physically.
Reality had fallen upon her like some clumsy, overtaking Titaness. Its
great bulk, heavy and hot and panting, weighed her down. She felt that
she must drag herself from under that dense weight, or suffocate. She
turned the key in the lock--went and stood by the open window--took off
her hat, her cloak, her gloves, mechanically, with quiet deliberation.
Her movements were all quiet and deliberate. She was saying to herself,
"Let me think.... Let me think ..." as though some one were keeping back
thought from her.

It is one thing to suspect--to surmise. It is quite another to see with
bodily vision. Seeing is believing, they say, yet Sophy felt herself,
her inmost self, refusing to believe what she had seen--and heard. This
was just at first, before she succeeded in freeing herself from that
leaden smothering sense of stupefaction.

Within ten minutes her mind was working with lightning speed and
clarity. Now in contrast to her former state, she had a sense of being
giddily light and uplifted above the situation. It was as if her part in
it did not count at all, as if she were nowhere. Or as if being
somewhere, she was conscious o