Suddenly the finger stopped.
As suddenly, something seemed to break in Mark's heart.
"Betty," he cried, "Betty—do you hear me? I am glad you didn't come. I shall live to thank God you didn't come."
She opened her eyes, and for the last time he noted that curious intensity of interrogation by which the full orb of the irid was revealed. He saw that she could not speak; he knew with conviction that no speech was necessary. Her lips parted in a faint smile, as if the last flickering doubt were escaping. Then, with a little shiver, with a sigh of contentment, her lids fell....
Outside the nurse and Lady Randolph waited, listening. In the library below sat Archibald Samphire and David Ross. Presently Lady Randolph went downstairs.
"The doors are locked," she faltered. "And there isn't a sound. I fear—I fear——"
The others understood instantly.
"Oh, my God—not that!" exclaimed Archibald.
He ran upstairs. At Betty's door he paused, inclining his ear. The silence within the room chilled him to the marrow. He called Mark by name, at first in a whisper, then louder, at the last his voice rang through the house.
"We must break in," he said.