But he still stood, dazed and trembling.
"Bring some water," she said again.
He spilt it as he carried it. "Why didn't I see before? I did see before. On the moor, I watched for you You're beautiful." His voice sank. "You're good."
She was not listening to him. She dabbled water on Miriam's brow and lips and chafed her hands, but still she lay as if she were glad to sleep.
"Poor little thing!" Helen said deeply and half turned her head. "Some of your brandy," she commanded. "She is so cold."
"I'll take her to the kitchen."
"Is that woman in the house?" she asked sharply.
"She's in bed, I suppose."
"She must have heard—she must have known—and she didn't help!"
He put a hand to his forehead. "No, she didn't help. I'd meant to give her up, and then—I found her here, and I'd been drinking."