step to save my life. I just stood there, my hand on the knob, trembling like a leaf.
A man was standing by the south window looking out; he wheeled around as I went in, and, as Nancy said, he had a scowl on and looked angry clear through. He was very handsome, and his gray hair gave him such a distinguished look. I recalled this afterward, but just at the moment you may be quite sure I wasn’t thinking about it at all.
Then all at once a strange thing happened. The scowl went right off his face and the anger out of his eyes. He looked astonished, and then foolish. I saw the color creeping up into his checks. As for me, I still stood there staring at him, not able to say a single word.
“Miss Holmes, I presume.” he said at last, in a deep, thrilling voice. “I — I — oh, confound it! I have called — I heard some foolish stories and I came here in a rage. I've been a fool — I know now they weren't true. Just excuse me and I'll go away and kick myself.”
“No,” I said, finding my voice with a gasp, “you mustn’t go until you’ve heard the truth. It’s dreadful enough, but not as dreadful as you might otherwise think. Those — those stories — I have a confession to make. I did tell them, but I didn’t know there was such a person as Cecil Fenwick in existence.”
