His
eager interest in Kelly's talk of the diamond, the strangeness of
his attitude that morning. And then, with a lightning suddenness,
came the memory of Kieff.
Guy was under Kieff's influence. She was certain of it. And
Kieff? She shrank at the bare thought of the man, his subtle
force, his callous strength of purpose, his almost uncanny
intelligence. Yes, she was afraid of Kieff--she had always been
afraid of Kieff.
The midday heat seemed to press upon her like a burning, crushing
weight. It seemed to deprive her of the power to think, certainly
of the power to reason. For what rational connection could there
be between Kieff and the loss of Burke's key? Kieff was several
miles away at the farm of Piet Vreiboom. And Guy--where was Guy?
She wished he would come back. Surely he would come back soon!
She would tell him of her loss, she yearned to tell someone; she
would get him to help her in her search. For it could not be lost.
It could not be really lost! They would find it somehow--somehow!
It was no actual reasoning but a blind instinct that moved her to
get up at length and go to the room that Guy had occupied for so
long, the room that was Burke's. It was just as Guy had left it
that morning. She noted mechanically the disordered bed. The
cupboard in the corner was closed as usual, but the key was in the
lock.
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