"I was in a gambling establishment--"
"Whose?"
"Johnnie Worsham's--"
"What were you doing there? You neither drink nor gamble."
Again the dark face smiled.
"I was asked by my Chief to report on the habits of every man in my
Department--particularly to report every man who frequents the gambling
hells of Richmond--"
Jennie watched him nervously, her hands trembling.
"It's possible of course--"
Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and she threw herself into his
arms.
And then it happened--the little thing, trivial and insignificant,
that makes and unmakes life.
For a long while no words were spoken. With gentle touch he soothed her
trembling body, bending to kiss the waves of rich brown hair.
She pushed him at arm's length at last and looked up smiling.
"I can't help it--I love you!"
"When will you learn that we must trust where we love--"
He stopped suddenly. Her brown eyes were fixed with terror on a single
strand of curling blond hair caught on the button of his waistcoat.
"What is it?" he asked in alarm.
She drew the hair from his coat carefully and held it to the light in
silence.
"You can't be jealous?"
She looked at him curiously.
"Yes. I have a rival--"
"A rival?"
Her eyes pierced him.
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