Gilbert looked at Anne.
"Anne, what are you up to? There's something going on
that I don't understand. The whole air here tonight
has been charged with electricity. Leslie sits like
the muse of tragedy; Owen Ford jokes and laughs on the
surface, and watches Leslie with the eyes of his soul.
You seem all the time to be bursting with some
suppressed excitement. Own up. What secret have you
been keeping from your deceived husband?"
"Don't be a goose, Gilbert," was Anne's conjugal
reply. "As for Leslie, she is absurd and I'm going up
to tell her so."
Anne found Leslie at the dormer window of her room.
The little place was filled with the rhythmic thunder
of the sea. Leslie sat with locked hands in the misty
moonshine--a beautiful, accusing presence.
"Anne," she said in a low, reproachful voice, "did you
know Owen Ford was coming to Four Winds?"
"I did," said Anne brazenly.
"Oh, you should have told me, Anne," Leslie cried
passionately. "If I had known I would have gone
away--I wouldn't have stayed here to meet him. You
should have told me.
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