Wilbur nodded, as if the miracle were being slowly
unfolded before his eyes.
“And you’ve never noticed anything different
about her? Never watched a little lift and grace
in her walk that no man could ever have; never seen
her color change just because you, Pierre, came near
or went far away from her?”
“Because of me?” asked the bewildered
Pierre.
“You fool, you! Why, lad, I’ve been
kept amused by you two for a whole evening, watching
her play for your attention, saving her best smiles
for you, keeping her best attitudes for you, and letting
all the richness of her voice go out for—a
block—a stone. Gad, the thing still
doesn’t seem possible! Pierre, one instant
of that girl would give romance to a man’s whole
life.”
“This girl? This Jack of ours?”
“He hasn’t seen it! Why, if I hadn’t
seen years ago that she had tied her hands and turned
her heart over to you, I’d have been begging
her for a smile, a shadow of a hope.”
“If I didn’t know you, Dick, I’d
say that you were partly drunk and partly a fool.”
“Here’s a hundred—a cold hundred
that I’m right. I’ll make it a thousand,
if you dare.”
“Dare what?”
“Ask her to marry you.” “Marry—me?”
“Damn it all—well, then—whatever
you like. But I say that if you go back into
that room and sit still and merely look at her, she’ll
be in your arms within five minutes.”
“I hate to take charity, but a bet is a bet.
That hundred is in my pocket already. It’s
a go!”
They shook hands.
“But what will be your proof, Dick, whether
I win or lose?”
“Your face, blockhead, when you come out of
the room.”
Upon this Pierre pondered a moment, and then turned
toward the door. He set his hand on the knob,
faltered, and finally set his teeth and entered the
room.
She lay as he had left her, except that her face was
now pillowed in her arms, and the long sobs kept her
body quivering. Curiosity swept over Pierre,
looking down at her, but chiefly a puzzled grief such
as a man feels when a friend is in trouble. He
came closer and laid a hand on her shoulder.
“Jack!”
She turned far enough to strike his hand away and
instantly resumed her former position, though the
sobs were softer. This childish anger irritated
him. He was about to storm out of the room when
the thought of the hundred dollars stopped him.
The bet had been made, and it seemed unsportsmanlike
to leave without some effort.
The effort which he finally made was that suggested
by Wilbur. He folded his arms and stood silent,
waiting, and ready to judge the time as nearly as
he could until the five minutes should have elapsed.
He was so busy computing the minutes that it was with
a start that he noticed some time later that the weeping
had ceased. She lay quiet. Her hand was
dabbing furtively at her face for a purpose which Pierre
could not surmise.
