“Is she mad?” cried Hallett angrily. “Where is her husband—where is Revitts?”
“We don’t know,” I said hastily. “We are waiting for him.”
“I want him directly,” he said hoarsely. “I could not go to a stranger.”
“What is the matter, Hallett?” I cried. “Pray, speak out. What can I do?”
“Nothing,” he said hoarsely. “Yes; tell him to come—no, bring him to me. Do you hear?”
“Yes,” I faltered.
“At any hour—whenever he comes,” said Hallett, speaking now angrily, as he recovered under the stimulus of the brandy.
“Then there is something terribly wrong,” I said.
“Wrong? Yes. My God!” he muttered, “that I should have to tell it—Linny has gone?”