“I say, don’t you play too long tonight. Don’t you go overdoing it.” Her chaff made no impression upon him, he was used to it. But he was struck by some alteration or intensification of her brilliancy. How could he know the secret of it? The love of which he was capable gave him no key to the spell that was on those two tonight.
Anne slipped off to bed presently, at Gabriel’s whispered encouragement, and Margaret went on playing to the two men. Peter commented sometimes, asked for this or the other, went over and stood by her side, turning over the music, sat down beside her now and again. Gabriel remained on the corner of the sofa Anne had vacated, and listened. Therefore it was Peter who caught her when she fell forward with a little sigh or moan, Peter who caught her up in his arms and strode over with her to the sofa. Gabriel would have taken her from him, but Peter issued impatient orders.
“Open the window, pull the blind up, let us have as much air as possible. Ring for her maid, ring like blazes ... she has only fainted.” Within a minute she was sitting up, radiantly white, but with shadows round her pale mouth and deep under her eyes.
“It is nothing, it is only a touch of faintness. Not an attack. Gabriel, you were not frightened?” she asked, and put out her hand to him.
Peter said something inarticulate and got up from where he had been kneeling beside her.
“I’ll get you some brandy.”
“Shall I go?” Gabriel asked, but was holding her hand.
“No, no. You stay. Dr. Kennedy knows where it is.”
Gabriel knelt beside her now.
“Were you frightened?” she asked, still a little faintly.