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"She has known storms, then," was Arnold's mental comment. He began to speak of Jamie, and a light came suddenly into her face. It was the greatest relief, she said, to know that the child was happy. "And Miss Neale's manuscript may I see it?" he asked. "I have always wished that I had known her. When Waring wrote to tell me of his engagement I was abroad.
In the clean, new, sweet lucidity of her just-returned consciousness she saw what she was not to forget, something like a steady, visible light, which was Neale's life. That was Neale himself. And as she looked at him silently, she thought it no wonder that she had been literally almost frightened to death by the mere possibility that it had not existed.
"But, man.... Say, McDermott, go fetch Neale in here." Allie Lee heard all this strange talk with consternation. An irresistible magnet drew her toward those curtains, which she grasped with trembling hands, ready, but not able, to part them and enter the room. It seemed that in there was a friend of Neale's whom she was going to love, and an enemy whom she was going to hate.
Suddenly Neale heard the soft thud of lead striking flesh. His horse leaped with a piercing snort of terror, and Neale thought he was going down. But he recovered, and went plunging on, still swift and game, though with uneven gait. Larry yelled. His red face flashed back over his shoulder. He saw something was wrong with Neale's horse and he pulled his own.
She lost control of the mustang. She felt him turning, slowing, the yells burst hideously in her ears. Like her mother's her fate. A roar of speedy hoof-beats seemed to envelop her, and her nostrils were filled with dust. They were upon her. She prayed for a swift stroke then for her soul. All darkened her senses were failing. Neale's face glimmered there in space and again was lost.
"Saw you in Omaha at the office of the company. My name's Blair. I sell supplies to Commissioner Lee. He has growing interests along the road." Neale's lips closed and he set down his empty glass. Excusing himself, he went back to the group he had left. Larry sat on the edge of the table; Ruby stood close to him and she was talking; Stanton and the other woman had taken chairs.
"And Neale's been in a den of lions and never told us about it?" gasped Agnes, in spite of herself carried away with the romantic side of the show business again. "Didn't he ever?" "He never told us he was with a circus at all," confessed Agnes. "He was afraid of being sent back, I suppose." "And ain't he ever blowed about it to the boys?" "Oh, no!
Her wits had gone from her ever since the mention of Neale. She floundered in a whirl of thoughts and fears until gradually she recovered self-possession. Whatever instinct or love or spirit had guided her had done so rightly. She had felt Neale's presence in Benton. It was stingingly sweet to realize that. Her heart swelled with pangs of fullest measure. Surely he again believed her dead.
Welles remarked with a gentle dignity, in evident allusion to Neale's cutting him short, "I only meant that I was very much interested in what I see here, and that I would like very much to know more about it." Neale felt he fairly owed him an apology. He began to understand what Marise meant when she had said the old fellow was one you loved on sight.
The two women kissed each other on both cheeks, hurriedly, as someone cried, "All aboard!" Eugenia took Neale's outstretched hand. "Good-bye, Neale," she said. With the porter's aid, she mounted the rubber-covered steps into the mahogany and upholstery of the drawing-room car. "Good luck, Eugenia! Bon voyage!" called Neale after her. She did not turn around or look back.
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