'Thank you. That is a very pretty sentiment, but it is hardly the question.'
'My help,' he continued, 'need not be obvious to every casual observer. But I am not going to leave you to fight this out alone, Brenda. I was forced to leave you once, and I am not going to do it again. What does Mrs. Wylie say to it all?'
'Nothing as yet. She is waiting on events.'
'Ah, then, she is in reserve as usual. When the time comes, we may rely upon her help. But until then...'
'Theo,' interrupted Brenda in an agonized voice, 'the time has come!'
She started back from the window, her face as white as her snowy throat, her eyes contracted with horror.
'He is there!' she whispered hoarsely, pointing towards the window—'in the street. Coming into the house!'
Her little hands clutched his sleeve with a womanly abandonment of restraint, and he stood quite still in his self-reliant manhood. Then he found with surprise that his right arm was round her shoulders protecting her.
'Come,' he said with singular calmness—'come into another room. I—see him here.'
As he spoke he gently urged her towards the door, but she resisted, and for a moment there was an actual physical struggle.