_Unhappy Freedom_
Once out in the street Caroline had cast one glance of terror over her
shoulder at the towering facade of the house of John Mark, then she
fled, as fast as her feet would carry her, straight across the street
and up the steps of the rooming house and frantically up the stairs, a
panic behind her.
Presently she was tapping hurriedly and loudly on a door, while, with
her head turned, she watched for the coming of some swift-avenging
figure from behind. John Mark had given her up, but it was impossible
for John Mark to give up anything. When would he strike? That was the
only question.
Then the door opened. The very light that poured out into the dim hall
was like the reach of a friendly hand, and there was Ronicky Doone
laughing for pure joy--and there was Bill Gregg's haggard face, as if he
saw a ghost.
"I told you, Bill, and here she is!"
After that she forgot Ronicky Doone and the rest of the world except
Gregg, as he took her in his arms and asked over and over: "How did it
come about? How did it come about?"
And over and over she answered: "It was Ronicky, Bill. We owe everything
to him and Ruth Tolliver."
This brought from Ronicky a sudden question: "And what of her? What of
Ruth Tolliver? She wouldn't come?"
It pricked the bubble of Caroline's happiness, that question. Staring at
the frowning face of Ronicky Doone her heart for a moment misgave her.
How could she tell the truth? How could she admit her cowardice which
had accepted Ruth's great sacrifice?
"No," she said at last, "Ruth stayed."
"Talk about that afterward, Ronicky," pleaded Bill Gregg. "I got about a
million things to say to Caroline."
"I'm going to talk now," said Ronicky gravely. "They's something queer
about the way Caroline said that. Will you let me ask you a few more
questions?"
"Won't you wait?" asked Caroline, in an agony of remorse and shame.
"Won't you wait till the morning?"
Ronicky Doone walked up and down the room for a moment. He had no wish
to break in upon the long delayed happiness of these two. While he paced
he heard Bill Gregg saying that they must start at once and put three
thousand miles between them and that devil, John Mark; and he heard
Caroline say that there was no longer anything to fear--the claws of the
devil had been trimmed, and he would not reach after them--he had
promised. At that Ronicky whirled sharply on them again.
"What made Mark change his mind about you?" he asked. "He isn't the sort
to change his mind without a pretty good reason. What bought him off?
Nothing but a price would change him, I guess."