"The childish words are probably the best, the right ones," he told her gently.
"An angel," she said instantly in a hushed tone, "I thought of an angel. There is no other word I can find. But somehow a helpless one. An angel—out of place."
He looked hard at her, his manner encouraging though grave; he said no word; he did not smile.
"Someone not of this earth quite," she added. "Not a man, at any rate."
Still more gently, he then asked her what she felt.
"At first I couldn't move," she went on, her voice normal again. "I must have stood there ten minutes fully, perhaps longer"—her listener did not correct the statement—"when I suddenly recovered and looked about for you, Edward, but could not see you. I needed you, but could not find you. I remember feeling somehow that I had lost you. I tried to call for you—in my heart. There was no answer.... Then—then I closed the door quietly and went upstairs to change from my street clothes."
She paused and passed a hand slowly across her forehead. Dr. Fillery asked casually a curious question:
"Do you remember how you got upstairs, Nayan?"
Her hand dropped instantly; she started. "It's very odd you should ask me that, Edward," she said, gazing at him with a slightly rising colour in her face, an increase of fire glowing in her eyes; "very odd indeed. I was just trying to think how I could describe it to you. No. Actually I do not remember how I got upstairs. All I know is—I was suddenly in my room." A new intensity appeared in voice and manner. "It seemed to me I flew—or that—something—carried me."
"Yes, Nayan, yes. It's quite natural you should have felt like that."