close.
Varney, standing in front of Miss Carstairs, shielded her from the
press, her capable buffer. Soon he noticed that that part of the wall
upon which she leaned was not a wall, but a door. He reached past her,
turned the knob, revealed a brilliantly-lit little room.
"Ah!... A haven, Miss Carstairs."
She stepped backward, into the tiny box-office where Ryan had stood two
hours before and cynically waited for his sport to begin. It was empty
now, offering a perfect refuge. Varney followed and stood with his hand
on the knob just inside the door.
"Thank you," said Miss Carstairs, breathing a little rapidly. "The
meetings have never been as bad as this before. But--I must not lose
sight of Jenny."
"I'm here, Miss Mary," gurgled an ice-creamy voice at the door.
"I think I had better wait outside after all," said Mary. "Mr. Hare will
hardly know where to look for me."
"Miss Jenny will be his clew: he couldn't miss her," said Varney. "Let
me go on, while I have time. Miss Carstairs, it is not fair to either of
us to let matters stay like this. In the cottage last night, you forced
me to let you think I was--another man--"
"That is absurd," she said. "How could I possibly force you to say what
was not--the fact?"
"Did I really say anything that was not--the fact? I tried particularly
not to. But I did let you deceive yourself about it: that is quite true
and I'm sorry. I did it because--well, because if I hadn't done it, you
were not going to let me walk home with you."
She leaned against the little desk at which the Academy man sat to sell
tickets, and hesitated, almost imperceptibly. "Then why," she asked,
"should you wish to _undeceive_ me now?"
"You know why," he answered. "If I don't, something tells me that you
are not going to speak to me any more."
Her silence conceded the truth of this. It began to be evident how
difficult he had made matters for himself.
Varney laughed. "I am determined to make you believe me, yet just how am
I to go about it? It's rather an absurd position, when you come to think
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