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And he looked back, as though trying to find out what she had in her heart, and as he looked a little flicker of horror went over his face. Then he smiled a slow smile, as though he had understood something and consented to it and it was a queer smile to see on the face of a young fellow. It was as if the youth of Johnny Deutra had passed away forever.
It was as if for a while I had become fused with her and her love for Johnny Deutra and with all the dark things that had happened in our house this afternoon. I got out of bed and went to her and put my hand in hers. If she'd only cried, or if she'd only spoken I could have stood it; if she'd said in words what was going on inside her mind.
Black looks passed between them, and I would catch "Nick" Hammar's eyes resting on Johnny with a smiling venom that struck fear into me. Johnny Deutra seldom came daytimes, but he came in late one afternoon and sat there looking moodily at Deolda, who flung past him with the air she had when she wore the saffron shawl.
When my aunt was ready for bed there was no Deolda. Later came the sound of footsteps and my aunt's voice in the hall outside my room. "That you, Deolda?" "Yes'm." "Where were you all evening?" "Oh, just out under the lilacs." "For pity's sake! Out under the lilacs! What were you doing out there?" Deolda's voice came clear and tranquil. "Making love with Johnny Deutra." I held my breath.
"I guess she thinks she sent Johnny Deutra to his grave," said my aunt. Conboy peered in the door at Deolda. Her face looked like a yellow mask of death with her black hair hanging around her. "God!" he said, in a whisper. "She cares!" I don't believe it had dawned on him before that she was anything but a wild devil. All that day the Anita wasn't heard from.
Then Deolda said to him: "Good for you, Johnny Deutra!" and put out her hand, and he laid his in hers and they shook on it, though no word had passed between them. And all this time my aunt and I sat motionless on the haircloth sofa next to the wall. And I tell you as I watched them my blood ran cold, though I didn't understand what it was about. But later I understood well enough.
What can you do when a girl tells the truth unabashed. "I've known Johnny Deutra ever since he came from the Islands, Deolda," my aunt said, sternly. "He'll mean it when he falls in love." "I know it," said Deolda, with a little breathless catch in her voice. "He's only a kid. He's barely twenty," my aunt went on, inexorably. "He's got to help his mother.
My mind went back to that night twenty years ago, with the rain beating its devil's tattoo against the window, when all night long I sat holding Deolda's hand while she never spoke or stirred the hours through, but stared with her crazy, smut-rimmed eyes out into the storm where Johnny Deutra was. I heard again the shuttle of her feet weaving up and down the room through the long hours.
She'd sit mocking Conboy, but he'd only smile. She'd go off with her other love and my aunt powerless to stop her. As for Johnny Deutra, he was so in love that all he saw was Deolda. I don't believe he ever thought that she was in earnest about old Conboy. So things stood when one day Capt. Mark Hammar came driving up with Conboy to take Deolda out.
So I just thought I'd come and run in on Deolda before I left, seeing as I'm going to marry her when I get back." Johnny Deutra undid his long length from the chair. He was a tall, heavy boy, making up in looks for what he lacked in head. He came and stood over Mark Hammar. He said: "I've had enough of this. I've had just enough of you two hanging around Deolda.
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