At last she opened her eyes and sighed.
‘Where am I?’ she asked vaguely, in a tremulous tone as she recognized him. ‘Is it you? Did I do anything silly? Did I faint?’
‘What has happened? Were you ill?’ he questioned anxiously. He was kneeling at her feet, holding her hand tight.
‘I saw Jules by the side of my bed,’ she murmured; ‘I’m sure I saw him; he laughed at me. I had not undressed. I sprang up, frightened, but he had gone, and then I ran downstairs—to you.’
‘You were dreaming,’ he soothed her.
‘Was I?’
‘You must have been. I have not heard a sound. No one could have entered.
But if you like I will wake Mr Racksole.’
‘Perhaps I was dreaming,’ she admitted. ‘How foolish!’
‘You were over-tired,’ he said, still unconsciously holding her hand. They gazed at each other. She smiled at him.