And so they talked. Jane, snug in her chair, was content to listen, and
I, who had been blind, was now dumb with the startling surprises that
the game of life being played before me revealed.
The girl glowed as softly bright as a firefly and the light lured the
man to happy forgetfulness. For once he let love have full sway. He
neither sought to conceal what he felt, nor to stem the tide which was
fast sweeping him--he knew not nor cared not whither so long as his eyes
might rest upon the dearness of Zura's face, as with folded feet and
hands she sat on a low cushion, the dull red fire reflecting its glory
in the gold embroidery of her gown.
There had been a long silence. Then Zura recalled the event of the day:
"Oh, Mr. Hanaford, by the way. You remember Pinkey Chalmers, don't
you--the nice boy you and Ursula entertained so beautifully in the
garden when he called the last time? He was here again to-day; had his
bride with him. Ursula will tell you what she looked like. I do wish you
had been here. Mr. Chalmers told us the most exciting news about a
Chicago cashier who skipped away with a million dollars and hid both
himself and the money--nobody knows where. They think he is out this way
and I think I am going to find him."
In the passing of one second the happiness in Page Hanaford's face
withered. Like a mask fear covered it. He thrust his strained body
forward and with shaking hand grasped the shoulder of the girl. "Hid it!
Tell me, in heaven's name, tell me where could a man hide a million
dollars?" His voice was tense to the breaking point. He searched the
girl's face as if all eternity depended upon her reply.
Before she could make it he sank back in his chair, pitifully white and
limp. He begged for air. We opened the window. Zura ran for water. While
I bathed his face he said, looking at Zura: "I beg your pardon. I'm not
at all well, but I didn't mean to startle you."
"I'm not startled," she answered, and lightly added: "but I was just
wondering why anybody would care so much where a million old dollars
were hid. I know a hundred things I'd rather find."
The man laid his hand on that of the girl as it rested on the arm of the
chair. "Name one, Zura."
"Love." And on her face the high lights were softened to compassion and
tenderness.
Page took his hand from hers and covered his eyes.
* * * * *
There I stood waiting to put another cold cloth on the boy's head.
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