She saw two
fiery eyes; she saw the tiger gather himself preparatory to springing.
She----"
Perry Thomas's knock had been ponderous, thunderous, and clumsy.
Weston's had been self-assured, but polite. Now came a series of raps,
now loud, now low, now quick, now slow, keeping time to a martial air.
Evidently there was a rollicking fellow outside. No one moved. We sat
there, all five of us, eyes wide open in surprise, trying to guess, who
this could be playing tunes on the door, and never seeking to solve the
simple problem by turning the knob.
It was Tim. There was a sudden oppressive silence. Then he entered,
gravely bowing.
"Good evening, Mr. Warden," he said mockingly. "You have a delightful
way here of greeting the stranger at your gate, closing your ears to
his appeals and letting him break in. And Miss Warden too--why, this
is a surprise. I had supposed you'd be at a ball. And Mr.
Weston--delighted--I'm sure----"
"What, Mark?" There was genuine surprise in Tim's voice as he saw me
sitting quietly in the shadow.
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