"My dear, my dear," murmured Corinna because she could think of no words
that sounded less ineffectual.
There was a ring at the doorbell while she spoke and after a pause
which appeared to her interminable, she heard the shuffling tread of old
Abijah, and then the clear tone of Stephen's voice, followed immediately
by another speaker who sounded vaguely familiar, though she could not
recall now where she had listened to him before. It was not Julius
Gershom, she knew, though it might be some man that she had heard at a
meeting.
"Let me speak to Mrs. Page first," said Stephen. "Ask her if she will
come into the drawing-room."
For an instant Corinna hung back, with the chill of dread at her heart;
and in that instant Patty flew past her like a startled spirit, while
the ends of her black sash streamed behind her. With the penetrating
insight of love the girl had surmised, had seen, had understood, before
a word of explanation had reached her, before even the door had swung
open, and she had met the blanched faces of the men in the hall.
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