"I want you to understand," she faltered; and again, "I want you to understand."
But she could get no further. She hid her face against him and began to sob.
There followed a silence, tense and terrible, which she dared not break.
Then she felt him bend lower, and suddenly his arms were under her. He lifted her like a little child and sat down, holding her. His hand pressed her head against his neck, fondling, soothing, consoling. And she knew, with an overwhelming thankfulness, that she had not offered herself in vain. She had drawn him out of his hell by the magic of her love.
IX
When morning came Mercer departed alone, and Curtis was left in charge. Sybil lay in her room half dressed, while the latter treated her injured arm.
"You ought not to be up at all," he remarked, as he uncovered it. "Have you had any sleep?"
"Not much," she was obliged to confess.