"God is never angry with any of us," he answered softly. "We are not big enough for that. There, drink it, sweetheart! It will do you good."
She raised her two hands slowly, feeling as if they were weighted with iron fetters. With flickering eyes he watched her, in a fashion compelling though physically he could not help. She lifted the cup and drank.
The candlelight reeled and danced in her eyes. Her dazed senses began to awake. "Nick!" she exclaimed suddenly and sharply.
"Here, darling!" came his prompt reply.
She set down the empty cup, and clasped her hands tightly together.
"Nick!" she said again, in a voice of rising distress.
His hand slid down and held hers. "What is it, kiddie?"
She turned to him impulsively. "Oh, Nick, I've made a great mistake—a great mistake! I ought not to have let her go alone. She will be frightened. I should have gone with her."
"My child," Nick said, "for God's sake—don't say any more! This isn't the time."
And even as she wondered at the unwonted vehemence of his speech, she knew that they were no longer alone.
Max came swiftly through the shadowy archway and moved straight towards her. A white sling dangled from his neck, but it was empty. She thought his hands were clenched.