"He deserves none—the brute! See how he has hurt you."
The blue weals were clearly visible on the slender wrists which Morice raised for inspection.
"I was afraid," she confessed, her eyes filling again. "But, Monsieur, you saved me."
"I would that I had come sooner. I did not guess who I should meet on my walk."
"I often come here," she said simply, "to visit old Nanette Leroc, who used to be our nurse. She is blind, and lonely too, although her niece lives with her. But Marie cannot read, and that is what Nanette likes."
She stooped, as she spoke, to pick up the little velvet-covered Book of Hours which had fallen from her grasp in the struggle.
"You, too, were up early, Monsieur," she added shyly.
"Yes."
His voice was hesitant.
"We should be returning to the château," she continued, not noticing his confusion. "Madame Maman will be wondering what has become of us. She—she does not altogether approve of my journeys to Nanette's cottage all alone. But what would you? Guillaume could not always be spared to come with me, and till to-day I had trusted in our people."