Till now his
position had been purely that of the kindly physician soothing a
patient. The rapidity with which the patient was permitting himself to
be soothed rendered the post of physician something of a sinecure; and
Steve, as Kirk had done, began to slip back into the boxer.
It was while he was in what might be called a transition stage that an
unexpected swing sent him with some violence against the wall; and from
that moment nature asserted itself. A curious, set look appeared on his
face; wrinkles creased his forehead; his jaw protruded slightly.
Kirk made another rush. This time Steve did not slip; he went to meet
it, head down and hands busy.
* * * * *
Mrs. Lora Delane Porter came downstairs with the measured
impressiveness of one who bears weighty news. Her determined face was
pale and tired, as it had every right to be; but she bore herself
proudly, as one who has fought and not been defeated.
"Mr. Winfield," she said.
There was no answer. Looking about her, she found the studio empty.
Then, from behind the closed door of the inner room, she was aware of a
strange, shuffling sound. She listened, astonished. She heard a gasp,
then curious thuds, finally a bump louder than the thuds. And then
there was silence.
These things surprised Mrs. Porter.
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