Drowsiness presently had her in its grasp; not growing into actual sleep, at least for a while, but slowly enchaining her as with weights of lead. The sound of voices lessened till she could only hear an occasional whisper. There was a barricade like a stone wall between her and the outer world. Thought went on dimly within, uncontrollable by any effort of her own; and more dimly still she was aware of movements and utterances on the other side of the wall. Now and again a few words were clear.
"I told you so! It is exhaustion. She must have her sleep out, poor girl!"
Fulvia knew Mrs. Duncan's tones, and could have smiled to think that she was not asleep, had not the exertion of a smile been too great. She was capable only of passive endurance.
"Ethel—Nigel—my resolution." A voice within the enclosing walls said this.
"Oh no—no—no!" sighed Fulvia; but the very sigh was internal. Outwardly she seemed to be in profound slumber; and soon the seeming became reality.
* * * * * * *
"Plucky! Yes." The words stole in upon Fulvia with a subtle power; and she divined at once of whom they were spoken. "Never should have guessed anything was wrong."
"But Daisy had found it out."
"No, he asked her to cut the loaf at tea—didn't want Fulvia to know. Thoughtful of the lad! She was upset enough already, poor thing. I say, Mrs. Duncan—" Mr. Carden-Cox lowered his voice to almost a whisper—"I say, Mrs. Duncan, what do you think? Anything likely in that quarter?"
Fulvia heard a little snap of his fingers. The idea that she ought not to listen never occurred to her. She was hardly out of dreamland yet; and body and mind were so stupefied that movement seemed impossible.