"Thank you," said she, as Roger swung round upon her in turn. Her lips were smiling, but she scarcely recognised her own voice. "Am—am I to follow by the same way?"
Roger did not smile, but took her by the wrist.
"Gently, Mr. Stephen—gently, I implore you!" interposed Mr. Jose.
Roger did not seem to hear, and the woman made no resistance. He led her through the hall, across the threshold of Steens, and up the courtlage path. At the gate, as he pushed it wide for her, his grip on her wrist relaxed, and, releasing her, he stood aside.
She paused for one instant, and gently inclined her head.
"Stepson, you are a very foolish man," said she. "Good-day to you!"
She passed out. Roger closed the gate grimly, slipped forward its bolt, and walked back to the house.
But the woman without, as he turned his back, stepped aside quickly, found the wall, and, hidden by it, leaned a hand against the stonework and bowed her head.
A moment later, and before Roger had reached the front door, her hand slipped and she fell forward among the nettles in a swoon.