Then Harry forgot his pain in the intensity of his curiosity. He had
sustained a certain temporary numbing of the faculties from the blow and
his fancy, though vivid now, was vague. He was not at all sure that
he was still in Richmond. The window still showed that it was night,
and the rain was pouring so hard that he could hear it beating against
the walls. At all events, he thought whimsically, he had secured shelter,
though at an uncommon high price.
He heard a creak, and a door at the end of the room opened, revealing the
figure and the strong, haggard features of Henrietta Carden. Evidently
she had taken off a hood and cloak in an outer room, as there were rain
drops on her hair and her shoes were wet.
"How are you feeling, Mr. Kenton?" she asked.
"Full of aches and wonder."
"Both will pass."
She smiled, and, although she was not young, Harry thought her distinctly
handsome, when she smiled.
"I seem to have driven you out of your room and to have taken your bed
from you, Miss Carden," he said, "but I assure you it was unintentional.
I ran against something pretty hard, and since then I haven't been
exactly responsible for what I was doing."
She smiled again, and this time Harry found the smile positively winning.
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