She caught her breath with a sob. "Tell him—not to go away!" she begged.
He smiled a little, but electricity lingered in the pressure of his arm.
"I think it is time we broke up the meeting," he said. "You had better
run back to Isabel. If you wish to keep this episode a secret, Scott is,
I believe, gentleman enough to hold his peace."
She was free, and very slowly she released herself. She turned round to
Scott, but still she could not—dared not—meet his eyes.
Her limbs were trembling painfully. She felt weak and dizzy. Suddenly she became aware of his hand held out to her, proffering silent assistance.
Thankfully she accepted it, feeling it close firmly, reassuringly, upon her own. "Shall we go upstairs?" he asked, in his quiet, matter-of-fact way. "Isabel is a little anxious about you."
"Oh yes," she whispered tremulously. "Let us go!"
She tottered a little with the words, and he transferred his hold to her elbow. He supported her steadily and sustainingly.
Eustace stepped forward, and lifted the heavy curtain for them with a mask-like ceremony. She glanced up at him as she went through.
"Good night!" he said.
Her lips quivered in response.