"It's my heart," Warlock answered in a voice very soft and distant. "Bad ... Excitement ... Ring that bell ... Amy ..."
A moment later Amy entered. She came quickly into the room, she said nothing—only gave Martin one look.
She gave her father something from a little bottle, kneeling in front of him.
At last she turned to her brother. "You'd better go," she said. "You can do nothing here."
Miserable, repentant, feeling as though he had no place in the world and yet eager too to defend himself, he left the room.
CHAPTER VII
THE OUTSIDE WORLD
Maggie had a week.
She did not need it. From the first half-hour after Martin's leaving her her mind was made up. This question of marriage did not, on further reflection, very greatly disturb her. She had known, in her time, a number of married people and they had been invariably unhappy and quarrelsome. The point seemed to be that you should be, in some way, near the person whom you loved, and she had only loved one person in all her life, and intended never to love another. Even this question of love was not nearly so tangled for her as it would be for any more civilised person. She knew very little about marriage and only in the most sordid fashion about sexual relations which were definitely connected in her mind with drunken peasants and her father's cook. They had nothing at all to do with Martin.