In a few minutes the wine had brought the colour back to her face, and she felt more like herself again.
“I'm all right, now,” she said. “I'm sorry I was such a fool. But—but this business about Molly has given me rather a shock, I suppose.”
“Naturally. Now, if you're ready, we'll make a start.”
She rose, and he surveyed her slight figure in its thin muslin gown with some amusement.
“Not quite a suitable costume for motoring by night,” he remarked. He picked up one of the two big fur coats Mrs. Judson had brought into the room. “Here, put this on.” Then, when he had fastened it round her and turned the collar up about her neck, he stood looking at her for a moment in silence.
The whole of her slender form was hidden beneath the voluminous folds of the big coat, which had been originally designed to fit Garth's own proportions, and against the high fur collar her delicate cameo face, with its white skin and scarlet lips and its sombre, night-black eyes, emerged like some vivid flower from its sheath.
Trent laughed shortly.
“Beauty—in the garment of the Beast,” he commented. Then, briskly: “Come along. Judson will have the car ready by now.”
Sara stepped into the car and he tucked the rugs carefully round her. Then, directing Judson to drive the Selwyn pony and trap back to Sunnyside, he took his place at the wheel and the car slid noiselessly away down the broad drive.
“The surprising discovery of the doctor's pony and trap at Far End to-morrow morning would require explanation,” he observed grimly to Sara. She blessed his thoughtfulness.