Louis adopted an indifferent tone--
"Strange that the old lady should be so nervous just to-night--isn't
it?--seeing these burglars have been knocking about for over a
fortnight. Is this the first time she's got excited about it?"
"Yes, I think it is," said Rachel faintly, as it were submissively,
with no sign of irritation against him.
With their air of worldliness and mature wisdom they twittered on like
a couple of sparrows--inconsequently, capriciously; and nothing that
they said had the slightest originality, weight, or importance. But
they both thought that their conversation was full of significance;
which it was, though they could not explain it to themselves. What
they happened to say did not matter in the least. If they had recited
the Koran to each other the inexplicable significance of their words
would have been the same.
Rachel faced him again, leaning her hands behind her on the table, and
said with the most enchanting, persuasive friendliness--
"I wasn't frightened--truly! I don't know why I looked as though I
was."
"You mean about the revolver--in the sitting-room?" He jumped nimbly
back after her to the revolver question.
"Yes. Because I'm quite used to revolvers, you know.
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