CHAPTER XV
MARJORIE!" Gregg called carefully and he stepped from the shadow.
She started back and, in the dim light, he saw that she was quivering,—she who had never known what it was to possess an unsteady nerve. She did not recognize him at once; she seemed slow even to put her mind to the process of recognition, so intent was she in her errand from the house. Then she said, with an audible expiration, "Oh, you're Gregg!"
This was something of relief; but he could not feel that she was glad to see him; he realized that at first she could not think about him personally at all but that she only debated whether he would interfere with her.
"Where're you going?" he asked, advancing.
"Not far; you've come to see me, Gregg?"
"Yes."
"I want to see you—after a while; I want awfully to see you. You've been away doing something for me, Billy said; he hasn't told me what. I've not seen him—just telephoned. We've had trouble, Gregg."
"I know," Gregg said; still he could not feel that she was really thinking about him; she seemed to be speaking to put him off so that she could proceed about her errand. He seemed to mean nothing to her at the moment when he longed to be everything to her and to put out of her mind everyone else and, most particularly, that man whom she was on her way to meet.
