"I am convinced that Mr. Divine is not," she replied
non-committally.
She took a step toward the door. Theriere stood looking at
her. She was unquestionably very good to look at. He could
not remember ever having seen a more beautiful girl. A great
desire to seize her in his arms swept over the man. Theriere
had not often made any effort to harness his desires. What
he wanted it had been his custom to take--by force if
necessary. He took a step toward Barbara Harding. There was
a sudden light in his eyes that the girl had not before seen
there, and she reached quickly toward the knob of the door.
Theriere was upon her, and then, quickly, he mastered
himself, for he recalled his coolly thought-out plan based on
what Divine had told him of that clause in the will of the
girl's departed grandparent which stipulated that the man who
shared the bequest with her must be the choice of both herself
and her father. He could afford to bide his time, and play the
chivalrous protector before he essayed the role of lover.
Barbara had turned a half-frightened look toward him as
he advanced--in doubt as to his intentions.
"Pardon me, Miss Harding," he said; "the door is bolted--
let me unlatch it for you," and very gallantly he did so,
swinging the portal wide that she might pass out.
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