He shut his eyes and groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of mummery would get over. His five o’clock shadow was bristly against her fingers. The comtesse always felt Madame Valade to be not of her class, of course. He smothered it down with such a good will that the reaction set his heart to pounding. He heard the struggle on the landing, the fall of the heavy body, the groan,—and excited almost to frenzy by his fears, he succeeded in forcing open the door. It was only a matter of time. 270 “Curse that boy!” He chuckled and stomped the water. Well, let him be honest.
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