Reason, cold, remorseless reason surged back into his brain, accompanied by a paralyzing fear.
Some prescience told him that the man in the doorway was Kane Lawler.
And though he was convinced of it, he was a long time lifting his head and in turning it the merest trifle toward the door.

And when he saw that the dread apparition was indeed Lawler, and that Lawler's heavy pistol was extending from his side, the hand and arm behind it rigid, he stiffened, flung himself around and faced Lawler, his mouth open, his eyes bulging with the terrible dread of death and the awful certainty that death was imminent.
For an instant there was a silence--breathless, strained, pregnant with the promise of tragedy.

Then the silence was rent by Lawler's voice, dry, light, and vibrant: "Warden, if you move a quarter of an inch I'll blow you to hell!" Lawler walked slowly to Ruth, took her by the shoulders and steadied her.
"It's Lawler, Ruth," he said reassuringly.

"I want you to tell me what's wrong here." He shook her, gently, and she opened her eyes and looked at him dazedly.

Then, as she seemed to recognize him, to become convinced that it was really Lawler whom she had seen in the doorway, she smiled and rested her head on his shoulder, her hands patting his arms and his back as though to convince herself beyond doubt.
For an instant she stood there, holding tightly to him; and then she released herself, stepping back with flushed cheeks and shamed eyes.
"Kane, I am so glad you came!" she said.