"They are making a move," she murmured.
"Can they be thinking of coming here?" Heyst wondered anxiously.
"No, they aren't coming this way," she said; and there was another
pause. "They are going back to their house," she reported finally.
After watching them a little longer, she let go Heyst's hand and moved
away from the screen. He followed her into the room.
"You have seen them now," he began. "Think what it was to me to see them
land in the dusk, fantasms from the sea--apparitions, chimeras! And they
persist. That's the worst of it--they persist. They have no right to
be--but they are. They ought to have aroused my fury. But I have
refined everything away by this time--anger, indignation, scorn itself.
Nothing's left but disgust. Since you have told me of that abominable
calumny, it has become immense--it extends even to myself." He looked up
at her.
"But luckily I have you. And if only Wang had, not carried off that
miserable revolver--yes, Lena, here we are, we two!"
She put both her hands on his shoulders and looked straight into his
eyes. He returned her penetrating gaze. It baffled him. He could not
pierce the grey veil of her eyes; but the sadness of her voice thrilled
him profoundly.
"You are not reproaching me?" she asked slowly.
"Reproach? What a word between us! It could only be myself--but the
mention of Wang has given me an idea.
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