singularly like those other people who thought themselves so
different, but if he still needed her, wanted her, was it not her
duty--

With an impatient movement of her hands she got up and went over to
the window. There was no duty about it. It was love that called him to
her. She should not have let Carmencita go without finding from her
how it happened that she had met Stephen Van Landing on Custer Street.
She must go to Carmencita and ask her. If he were really looking for
her they might spend Christmas together. The blood surged hotly to her
face, and the beating of her heart made her hands unsteady. If
together--

A noise behind made her turn. Hand on the door-knob, Carmencita was
standing in the hall, her head inside the room. All glow was gone, and
hope and excitement had yielded to dejection and despair.

"I just came to beg your pardon for--for stamping my foot, and I'm
sorry I said what I did." The big blue eyes looked down on the floor
and one foot twisted around the other. "It isn't any use to forgive
me. I'm not worth forgiving. I'm not worth--"

The door was slammed violently, and before Miss Barbour could reach
the hall Carmencita was down the steps and out into the street, where
the Damanarkist was waiting.




CHAPTER XI