eyes, whose expression now she dared not even imagine.
At length she could no longer resist the temptation to turn round just enough to see him. Haddo’s eyes were fixed upon Margaret so intently that he did not see he was himself observed. His face, distorted by passion, was horrible to look upon. That vast mass of flesh had a malignancy that was inhuman, and it was terrible to see the satanic hatred which hideously deformed it. But it changed. The redness gave way to a ghastly pallor. The revengeful scowl disappeared; and a torpid smile spread over the features, a smile that was even more terrifying than the frown of malice. What did it mean? Susie could have cried out, but her tongue cleaved to her throat. The smile passed away, and the face became once more utterly impassive. It seemed that Margaret and Arthur realised at last the power of those inhuman eyes, and they became quite still. The dog ceased its sobbing. The silence was so great that each one heard the beating of his heart. It was intolerable.
Then Oliver Haddo moved. He came forward slowly.
“I want to ask you to forgive me for what I did,” he said. “The pain of the dog’s bite was so keen that I lost my temper. I deeply regret that I kicked it. Mr. Burdon was very right to thrash me. I feel that I deserved no less.”
He spoke in a low voice, but with great distinctness. Susie was astounded. An abject apology was the last thing she expected.
