“Shall I help you off with your coat?” she said.
He turned to her suddenly, and she was conscious of an unwilling admiration of the man’s courage when she saw the effort of his smile.
“I say, don’t dislike me so!” he said. “I’ll make Jarvis help me. Don’t you stay! There’s a room for you next-door—my room as a matter of fact, but I’ll stay in here for to-night.”
Against her will she was softened. Something about him—something which he neither uttered nor betrayed by look or gesture—appealed to her very strongly. She found herself unable to comply with his suggestion and abandon him to the mercy of the landlord who was even now lumbering heavily up the stairs. She realized clearly that whatever came of this night’s happenings, she was bound in common humanity to stand by Rotherby now. No other course of action was open to her.
“I shall not leave you,” she said, “till I have done all I can to help you—unless you make that impossible for me.”
“Heaven forbid!” said Rotherby, still smiling his twisted smile.
“Well, I am in earnest,” she said, as she bent to help him.
“I like you best that way,” said Rotherby.
She felt that in some fashion he had worsted her, but she put the matter resolutely away from her. It was not the moment for close analysis of the situation. She could only go as she was driven.
With the utmost care she helped him remove his coat, and was shocked to find that the shirt-sleeve was soaked with blood from shoulder to elbow.