He mounted the porch
steps. And Carley, still unseen herself, saw his face. Yes--Glenn! Hot
blood seemed to be tingling liberated in her veins. Wheeling away, she
backed against the wall behind the door and held up a warning finger to
Flo, who stood nearest. Strange and disturbing then, to see something in
Flo Hutter's eyes that could be read by a woman in only one way!
A tall form darkened the doorway. It strode in and halted.
"Flo!--who--where?" he began, breathlessly.
His voice, so well remembered, yet deeper, huskier, fell upon Carley's ears
as something unconsciously longed for. His frame had so filled out that she
did not recognize it. His face, too, had unbelievably changed--not in the
regularity of feature that had been its chief charm, but in contour of
cheek and vanishing of pallid hue and tragic line. Carley's heart swelled
with joy. Beyond all else she had hoped to see the sad fixed hopelessness,
the havoc, gone from his face. Therefore the restraint and nonchalance upon
which Carley prided herself sustained eclipse.
"Glenn! Look--who's--here!" she called, in voice she could not have
steadied to save her life. This meeting was more than she had anticipated.
Glenn whirled with an inarticulate cry.
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