"Where is he?" he asked.
"He has gone," she told him. "I—ordered him to go."
"Better late than never," said Lord Ronald thoughtfully.
He leaned upon the edge of the fountain, still mopping the blood from his face, till, suddenly feeling his beard, he stripped it off with a gesture of impatience.
"Afraid I must have given you a nasty shock," he said. "I didn't expect to be mauled like this."
"Please—please don't apologise," she begged him, with a sound that was meant for a laugh, but was in effect more like a sob.
He turned towards her in his slow way.
"I'm not apologising. Only—you know—I've taken something of a liberty, though, on my honour, it was well meant. If you can overlook that——"
"I shall never overlook it," she said tremulously.
He put the chuddah back from his head and regarded her gravely. His face was swollen and discoloured, but this fact did not in the smallest degree lessen the quaint self-assurance of his demeanour.