Yet the head of the white horse disappeared, and the
glimmer of the man's face went out.
She called: "Whatever you are, wait! Let me speak!"
But no answer came, and she knew that the form was gone forever.
She cried again: "Who's there?"
"It is I," said a voice at her elbow, and she turned to look into the
dark eyes of Jacqueline. "So he's gone?" asked Jack bitterly.
She fingered the butt of her gun.
"I thought--well, my chance at him is gone."
"But what--"
"Bah, if you knew you'd die of fear. Listen to what I have to say. All
the things I told you in the cabin were lies."
"Lies?" said Mary evenly. "No, they proved themselves."
"Be still till I've finished, because if you talk you may make me
forget--"
The gesture which finished the sentence was so eloquent of hate that
Mary shrank away and put the embers of the fire between them.
"I tell you, it was all a lie, and Pierre le Rouge has never loved
anything but you, you milk-faced--"
She stopped again, fighting against her passion. The pride of Mary
held her stiff and straight, though her voice shook.
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