"What did happen?" asked Ruth. Then, without waiting for a reply, as though afraid of a reply she went on:
"All I know is that I was waked up about a quarter to five by that alarm-bell going. Then I heard a crash—"
"Great Scott, Ruth, did I fall as hard as that?"
"It was the tea-tray!" said Ruth, and snatched her fingertips away from him in a reproachful way as though he had somehow insulted her.
"What tea-tray?"
"Jenny," Ruth explained, "was carrying a loaded tea-tray through the dining-room to those little back stairs. She heard you — she heard that thud on the awning, and the awning ripping wide open, and something hitting the flagstones. And would you believe it?"
Here Ruth turned to Stannard, who, though he must have heard the story half a dozen times, only nodded.
"Would you believe it?" Ruth said to Martin. "Jenny says the front door was partway open, with mist in the hall. Jenny simply threw the whole tea-tray to one side and rushed out. She found you lying on the terrace in the mist, with blood coming out of your forehead. Then Jenny began screaming. By mat time I was there, and Ricky came flying downstairs in his pyjamas. Poor Cicely was tired out and slept through it Fortunately Dr. Laurier was on the spot"
Stannard, smiling, had been examining the trim of his fingernails and polishing them on the sleeve of his dark-grey suit He grew grave now. He approached Martin, limping a little, and formally extended his hand.
"My dear fellow," he said in his husky hearty voice, "real congratulations on a lucky escape."