There was no mistaking,
however, the effect produced by the encounter on the man who had seemed
to force it. If a rabid dog or a rattlesnake had suddenly thrust its
companionship on him he could scarcely have displayed a greater access of
terror. His air of authority and assertiveness had gone, his masterful
stride had given way to a furtive pacing to and fro, as of an animal
seeking an outlet for escape. In a dazed perfunctory manner, always with
his eyes turning to watch the shop entrance, he gave a few random orders,
which the grocer made a show of entering in his book. Now and then he
walked out into the street, looked anxiously in all directions, and
hurried back to keep up his pretence of shopping. From one of these
sorties he did not return; he had dashed away into the dusk, and neither
he nor the dark-faced boy nor the veiled lady were seen again by the
expectant crowds that continued to throng the Scarrick establishment for
days to come.
* * * * *
"I can never thank you and your sister sufficiently," said the grocer.
"We enjoyed the fun of it," said the artist modestly, "and as for the
model, it was a welcome variation on posing for hours for 'The Lost
Hylas'.
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