He gave the glass to Jake who stood a moment as if undecided as to what to do with it, then bent over Maud.
She drew back. "Oh no, thank you! I never drink brandy. Besides, I am quite well again now."
She made as if she would get up to demonstrate this fact, but he stopped her. "Take a little!" he drawled. "Lord Saltash has had the trouble of fetching it."
"I would rather not," she said. "I would much rather not."
"Let her please herself!" said Saltash sharply.
But Jake's hand, steady as rock, was already holding the glass to her lips. She drank as one compelled.
Saltash fidgeted up and down in front of the window in evident dissatisfaction, his ugly face full of lines. "I am infernally sorry this has happened," he said. "You ought to have had the stuff sooner. I wish I had ordered champagne. We'll have some presently. Ah, that'll do, Jake, that'll do! Don't force it on her, for Heaven's sake! Look here, you and I will clear out now, and let her rest in front of the fire. You'd like that, Maud, wouldn't you?"
Maud murmured an affirmative.
"Sure?" said Jake.
She looked up at him. "Yes; but not too near the fire. And--and leave the door open. I want to hear--to know--" Her voice failed, sank into silence.