Prosper folded the letter. He was conscious of a faint feeling of
sickness, of fear. Then he heard Betty's step across the marble
pavement of the hall. She parted the heavy curtains, drew them
together behind her, and stood, pale with joy, opening and shutting
her big eyes. Then she came to meet him, held him back, listening for
any sound that might predict interruption, and gave herself to his
arms. She was no longer pale when he let her go. She went a few steps
away and stood with her hands before her face, then she went to sit by
the tea-table. They were both flushed. Betty's eyes were shining under
their fluttering lids. Prosper rejoiced in his own emotion. The mental
fog had lifted and the feeling of faintness was gone.
"You've decided not to break away altogether, then?" she asked, giving
him a quick glance.
He shook his head. "Not if what you have written me is true. I've had
such letters from you before and I've grown very suspicious. Are you
sure this time?" He laid stress upon his bitterness. It was his one
weapon against her and he had been sharpening it with a vague purpose.
"Oh," said Betty, speaking low and furtively, "Jasper is fairly
caught. I have a reliable witness in the girl's maid. There is no
doubt of his guilt, Prosper, none. Everyone is talking of it. He has
been perfectly open in his attentions."
Every minute Betty looked younger and prettier, more provoking. Her
child-mouth with its clever smile was bright as though his kiss had
painted it.
"Who is the girl?" asked Prosper. He was deeply flushed. Being capable
of simultaneous points of view, he had been stung by that cool phrase
of Betty's concerning "Jasper's guilt."
"I'll tell you in a moment. Did you destroy my letter?"
He shook his head.
"Oh, Prosper, please!"
He took it out, tore it up, and walking over to the open fire, burned
the papers. He came back to his tea. "Well, Betty?"
"The girl," said Betty, "is the star in your play, 'The Leopardess,'
the girl that Jasper picked up two Septembers ago out West. He has
written to you about her. She was a cook, if you please, a hideous
creature, but Jasper saw at once what there was in her. She has made
the play. You'll have to acknowledge that yourself when you see her.
She is wonderful. And, partly owing to the trouble I've taken with
her, the girl is beautiful. One wouldn't have thought it possible. She
is not charming to me, she's not in the least subtle. It's odd that
she should have had such an effect upon Jasper, of all men...."