“I hope you feel better. Can you tell me?” she said.
His voice was not strong, but his answer was that of a young man who knew what he was saying.
“If I'm not off my head, ma'am, I'm quite comfortable, thank you,” he replied.
“I am glad to hear that,” said Betty. “Don't be disturbed. Your mind is quite clear.”
“All I want,” said G. Selden impartially, “is just to know where I'm at, and how I blew in here. It would help me to rest better.”
“You met with an accident,” the “looker” explained, still smiling with both lips and eyes. “Your bicycle chain broke and you were thrown and hurt yourself. It happened in the avenue in the park. We found you and brought you in. You are at Stornham Court, which belongs to Sir Nigel Anstruthers. Lady Anstruthers is my sister. I am Miss Vanderpoel.”
“Hully gee!” ejaculated G. Selden inevitably. “Hully GEE!” The splendour of the moment was such that his brain whirled. As it was not yet in the physical condition to whirl with any comfort, he found himself closing his eyes weakly.
“That's right,” Miss Vanderpoel said. “Keep them closed. I must not talk to you until you are stronger. Lie still and try not to think. The doctor says you are getting on very well. I will come and see you again.”
As the soft sweep of her dress reached the door he managed to open his eyes.
“Thank you, Miss Vanderpoel,” he said. “Thank you, ma'am.” And as his eyelids closed again he murmured in luxurious peace: “Well, if that's her—she can have ME—and welcome!”