"You are fools, all of you!" Mary cried. Her eyes darkened and
distended with fear. They darted from Garson to the other three
men, and back again in rebuke. "Yes, fools! This is burglary. I
can't protect you if you are caught. How can I? Oh, come!" She
held out her hands pleadingly toward Garson, and her voice
dropped to beseeching. "Joe, Joe, you must get away from this
house at once, all of you. Joe, make them go."
"It's too late," was the stern answer. There was no least
relaxation in the stubborn lines of his face. "We're here now,
and we'll stay till the business is done."
Mary went a step forward. The cloak she was wearing was thrown
back by her gesture of appeal so that those watching saw the
snowy slope of the shoulders and the quick rise and fall of the
gently curving bosom. The beautiful face within the framing scarf
was colorless with a great fear, save only the crimson lips, of
which the bow was bent tremulously as she spoke her prayer.
"Joe, for my sake!"
But the man was inexorable.
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