"And how do you know about Spentoli?"
she demanded suddenly. "Who told you that?"
"The man himself," said Saltash.
"Ah! And what did he tell you?" A note of fierceness sounded in her
voice. She seemed to gather herself together like a cornered animal
preparing to make a wild dash for freedom.
Saltash made her a queer, abrupt bow, and in so doing he blocked the way
before her so that she could only flee by the way she had come. "He told
me nothing that I did not know before," he said, "nothing that your own
eyes had not told me long ago."
"What do you mean?" breathed Toby, pressing her clasped hands tightly to
her breast. Her eyes were still upraised to his; they glittered in the
dimness.
Saltash answered her more gently than was his wont. "I mean that I know
the sort of inferno your life had been--a perpetual struggle against odds
that were always overwhelming you. If it hadn't been so, you would never
have come to me for shelter. Do you think I ever flattered myself that
that was anything but a last resource--the final surrender to
circumstance? If I had failed you--"
"Wait!" Toby broke in tensely. "You're right in some things. You're
wrong there. It's true I was always running away--as soon as I was old
enough to realize the rottenness of life.
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