Well, that was what you get for trying to pull a Jonathan when the Saul in
question was behaving a good deal more like David in the affair with Uriah
the Hittite's spouse--and it wasn't safe and Biblical and all done with a
couple of thousand years ago but abashingly real and now happening directly
under your own astonished eyes. He licked his lips a little nervously--they
seemed to be rather dry. No use standing outside the door like a wooden
statue of Unwelcome Propriety anyhow--the thing had to be done, that was
all--and he pushed the bell-button with all the decision he could force
into his finger.
The fact that it was not answered at once helped him a good deal by giving
him a certain strength of annoyance. He pushed again.
It was Mrs. Severance who answered it finally--and the moment he saw her
face he knew with an immense invisible shock of relief how right he had
been, for it was composed as an idol's but under the composure there was
emotion, and, the moment she saw him, anger, as strong and steady and
impassive as the color of a metal that is only white because it has been
possessed to extremity already with all the burning heat that its substance
can bear.
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