Mr. Priestley stared at her aghast. So far as he could see, this extraordinary young woman had suddenly gone off her head. After threatening to fight him if he tried their last resource for getting rid of the handcuffs, she was now apparently weeping at the idea of not doing so. Women, in Mr. Priestley’s mind at that moment, was represented by one large question-mark.
Then suddenly suspicion invaded him. She had pretended to weep once before, and that time he had been taken in, with horrible consequences. Was it not highly probable that she was doing exactly the same thing again, relying on its previous success? What could possibly be her objection to his proposal. Mr. Priestley was unable to understand, but whatever it was it must be swept aside. He was going to be trifled with no longer.
With sudden determination he gathered the drooping body up in his arms and pursued his interrupted journey.
“Oh, no!” moaned a despairing voice from somewhere near his left shoulder. For a young woman who had just expressed her determination to fight to the death, Laura felt remarkably limp. But Laura was limp. For some strange reason the stuffing had been knocked out of her just as suddenly as it had arrived. She could not at that moment have stood up to a blue-bottle; and Mr. Priestley was far more formidable than any blue-bottle. Perhaps the strain of the evening had told on her more than she had realised; she was still cold, she was still clammy, her nerves were in shreds and her food had only given her indigestion. She felt like one of her own wet stockings.
“No!” she moaned again, but without hope.
Mr. Priestley set his teeth. It was a heartrending cry and it did make him feel a brute not to be able to heed it, but really——!
He carried her swiftly to the wash-stand, set her on her feet and, keeping a wary grip on her wrist, reached for the soap.
“Now then!” he said triumphantly, dipping it in the warm water and doing his best to produce a serviceable lather with one hand.
Laura opened her eyes and watched him dazedly. He seemed to be washing one hand in the hot-water can. It was probably very devilish, but its exact purpose escaped her for the moment. He began to soap her own inert hand.
And then, in a series of blinding flashes, Laura’s mind was illuminated.