"And you're going to teach me to ride like you do," he said, with an eagerness that Maud had seldom seen in him. "I'm just mad to begin."
He was picking up Jake's manner of speech in a fashion that his sister deplored but could not attempt to check; but no evil word had she ever heard on his lips, nor had she ever heard Jake use bad language in his presence.
Like one in the mesh of an evil dream she listened to Jake's reply, marvelling at the easy detachment with which he made it. And then the door opened, and the nurse came in with Rafford. She stood up, her heart beating as if it would choke her.
Bunny shot a swift glance around. "You'll stay with me, Jake?" he said quickly.
"Sure," said Jake.
Bunny drew a hard breath. "Hang on to me--tight, Jake!" he whispered.
And Maud turned to the door without a word. He did not need her--he did not need her!
She had a passing impression of the sympathy in Rafford's eyes as he held open the door for her, and then she was alone in the passage outside.
She moved along it uncertainly, almost as if groping her way, found the door of the music-room ajar, and entered.
A warm fragrance met her on the threshold, a sense of Eastern luxuriance and delight, soothing her troubled spirit as with a soft, healing hand, wooing her to a curious peace of mind. It was as though a misty veil had been drawn over her troubles, obscuring them, deadening her faculty for suffering.