“The man,” resumed Hilary patiently, “is a poor, violent creature, who has been wounded in the head; he is not quite responsible. He may do the girl an injury.”
“What injury?”
“He has stabbed his wife already.”
“I will speak to him,” said Mr. Stone.
Hilary smiled. “I am afraid that words will hardly meet the case. She ought to disappear.”
There was silence.
“My book!” said Mr. Stone.
It smote Hilary to see how white his face had become. 'It's better,' he thought, 'to bring his will-power into play; she will never come here, anyway, after I'm gone.'
But, unable to bear the tragedy in the old man's eyes, he touched him on the arm.
“Perhaps she will take the risk, sir, if you ask her.”