He was away some time. Bundle watched the clock on the mantelpiece. Five minutes, ten minutes, a quarter of an hour, twenty minutes—would he never come?
Then the door opened and Dr. Cassell reappeared. He looked different—Bundle noticed that at once—grimmer and at the same time more alert. There was something else in his manner that she did not quite understand, a suggestion of repressed excitement.
"Now then, young lady," he said, "let's have this out. You ran over this man, you say. Tell me just how the accident happened?"
Bundle explained to the best of her ability. The doctor followed her narrative with keen attention.
"Just so; the car didn't pass over his body?"
"No. In fact, I thought I'd missed him altogether."
"He was reeling, you say?"
"Yes, I thought he was drunk."
"And he came from the hedge?"
"There was a gate just there, I think. He must have come through the gate."