"It is all right, Marie," she called. "This—this is my friend."
Marie relaxed and gripped the banister for support. She was weak.
"I have never seen him before," she challenged.
There was a movement at the door.
"No, you have never seen him. Come here a moment, Marie."
With difficulty the old woman hobbled back into the room to her mistress, and for a few moments Donaldson waited impatiently for the next development. It came when he heard her voice asking him to come in. He was in the room in three strides. She was sitting in her chair with her head bandaged, Marie sitting by her side as though liking but little his intrusion. At sight of the white strip across her forehead, he caught his breath.
"What does this mean?" he demanded with quick assumption of authority.
"You must n't think it is anything serious," she hastened to explain, awed by the fierceness of his manner. "It is only that—that he came back."
"Arsdale?"
"Yes."