He expected to see Christine. He was
counting on it with all the pent-up fervor of a long-denied lover. The
brief glimpse he had had of her in the afternoon drove out all doubts
as to his own state of mind concerning her. She was incomparably
beautiful; she had the air of the high-bred; she was worthy of the
attentions of the well-born; she possessed poise, manner--all that and
more: the indefinable charm that radiates in some mysterious way from
the superlatively healthy.
His admiration for her, instead of suffering the shock that might have
been anticipated--and which was secretly dreaded, to be quite candid--
had grown more intense under the test. What would be her attitude
toward him? That was the question. What had the five years and new
environment done for her?
Eager as he was to discover the state of her feelings, he recognized,
however, the more pressing matters that were to be considered. The
peace and welfare of the girl herself demanded his first thoughts, his
most devoted efforts. Tragedy stalked close beside her. He was afraid
to think how close it was, or when it would make its ugly presence
felt.
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