This was the meaning, then, of the strangely
small feet and hands and the low music of the voice. It was the body
of a girl that he had held.
CHAPTER 11
It was not fear nor shame that made the eyes of Jacqueline so wide as
she stared past Pierre toward the door. He glanced across his
shoulder, and blocking the entrance to the room, literally filling
the doorway, was the bulk of Jim Boone.
"Seems as if I was sort of steppin' in on a little family party," he
said. "I'm sure glad you two got acquainted so quick. Jack, how did
you and--What the hell's your name, lad?"
"He tricked me, dad, or he would never have got the gun away from me.
This--this Pierre--this beast--he got me to talk of Hal. Then
he stole--"
"The point," said Jim Boone coldly, "is that he _got_ the gun. Run
along, Jack. You ain't so growed up as I was thinkin'. Or hold
on--maybe you're _more_ grown up. Which is it? Are you turnin' into a
woman, Jack?"
She whirled on Pierre in a white fury.
"You see? You see what you've done? He'll never trust me again--never!
Pierre, I hate you.
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