“Of course I shall write. At once.”
“No, don’t write!” said Eve, grasping his arm suddenly. “Or at least don’t let her send any answer until the journey is ended. It’s better not to know—not to know!”
“Not to know whether poor Sabrina is safe? Not to know whether that brute is on our track? I can’t imagine what you are thinking of; perhaps you will kindly explain?”
“It’s only that my head aches. I don’t know what I am saying!”
“Yes, you must be overwrought,” said the judge. He had been thinking only of Cicely. “You protected my poor little girl, you brought her away; it was a brave act,” he said, admiringly.
“It was for Jack, I wanted to save my brother’s child. Surely that was right?” Eve’s voice, as she said this, broke into a sob.
“They were in danger of their lives, then?” asked the grandfather, in a low tone. “Cicely didn’t tell me.”
“She did not know, she had fainted. A few minutes more, and I believe he would—We should not have them now.”
“But you got the boat off in time.”
“But I got the boat off in time,” Eve repeated, lethargically.