"My God," I cried out. "What if I had never waked up!"
There would have been the sunlight and the wind in the sky as now, but, facing me, no longer swaying, but still, inert, horrible, I should have seen--and I clapped my hands over my face, so distinct was this unspeakable vision to me, and cried out again: "What if I had not waked up!
"You have not waked up very early," said Dick, looking at me curiously, and recovering my self-possession I hasten to explain.
"I have had dreams, Dick. The strange room! I am barely awake yet."
It appeared that I was not the only one to keep London hours that morning. It was close upon mid-day and Dick had not waked me before, because he had not before had speech with the mistress of the house. Helen Mayle had risen late. But she knew now of my presence in the house and what had brought me, and was waiting to offer me her thanks.
In spite of this news that she was waiting, I made my toilette very slowly. It would be the most awkward, embarrassing meeting imaginable. How could one bow and smile and exchange the trivial courtesies with a girl whom one had saved from that silk noose some eight hours before? With what countenance would she greet me? Would she resent my interference? Dick, however, had plainly noticed nothing unusual in her demeanour; I consoled myself with that reflection. He noticed, however, something unusual here in my room, for as I tied my cravat before the mirror I saw that he was curiously looking at the silk scarf.
"Perhaps you have seen it before," said I without turning round. Dick started, then he coloured.
"I was wondering why it hung there," said he.
"It is curious," said I calmly, and I stood upon the bed and with some trouble, for the knots were stiff, I took it down and thrust it into the pocket of my coat.
"It is yours?" cried Dick.