'You won't speak of it?'
Her appeal was that of a child, helpless in calamity. Again she caught his hand, as if clinging for protection. Hugh replied in thick, hurried tones.
'I have enough trouble of my own. This is no place for you. For your own sake, if not for your husband's, keep away from here. I came because someone was telling foul lies—the kind of lies that drive a man mad. Whatever happens—whatever you hear—don't imagine that she is to blame. You understand me?'
'No word shall ever pass my lips!'
'Go at once. Get home as soon as you can.'
Alma turned to go. Outside, she cast one glance at the dark, silent, unmoving form, then bowed her head, and hastened away into the darkness.
Again Hugh knelt by Redgrave's side, raised his head, listened for the beating of his heart, tried to feel his breath. He then dragged him into the room, and placed him upon a divan; he loosened the fastenings about his neck; the head drooped, and there was not a sign of life. Next he looked for a bell; the electric button caught his eye, and he pressed it. To prevent any one from coming in, he took his stand close by the door. In a moment there was a knock, the door opened, and he showed his face to the surprised maid-servant.
'Is Mrs. Lant in the house?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Mr. Redgrave wants her at once; he is ill.'