"Don't you—know? Look at me—Ronnie!"
Then as suddenly she released his hands and held on to the table.
"Get me some water, please."
She watched him as he went unerringly into the scullery. There were two taps, one connected with a rain-water cistern that her father had made; the other was the drinking water.
He turned the right tap, found a glass where it was invariably hidden on a shelf behind a cretonne curtain, and brought it back to her.
She drank greedily.
"Sit down—Ronnie. I want you to tell me something. You went to the execution—I know it hurts you, my dear, but you must tell me. How did he die?"
She waited, holding her breath.
"It was—terrible," he said in a low voice, "he was so afraid!"
"Afraid!" she whispered.