He looked into her eyes for the disappointment he expected to find
there, and saw only eager interrogation.

"Oh, then I don't know you. I beg your pardon."

"I reckon there's no harm done," smiled Lawler.

He bowed again, noting that she looked intently at him, her eyes still
wide and filled with something he could not fathom. And when halfway up
the stairs he looked back, curious, subtly attracted to the woman, he
saw her standing in the doorway, ready to go out, watching him over her
shoulder. He laughed and opened the door of Gary Warden's office.

Warden was sitting at his desk. He turned at the sound of the door
opening, and faced Lawler inquiringly.

Perhaps in Lawler's eyes there still remained a trace of the cold
passion that had seized him in the schoolhouse; it may have been that
what Lawler had heard of Gary Warden was reflected in his gaze--a doubt
of Warden's honorableness. Or perhaps in Lawler's face he observed signs
which told him that before him stood a man of uncommon character.

At any rate, Warden was conscious of a subtle pulse of antagonism; a
quick dislike--and jealousy.

Warden could not have told what had aroused the latter emotion, though
he was subconsciously aware that it had come when he had noted the
rugged, manly strength of Lawler's face; that the man was attractive,
and that he admired him despite his dislike.