“Quite sure. My head aches rather.”
“That's very probable. You were stunned for a minute or two.”
Suddenly the recollection of their errand returned to her.
“Molly! Good Heavens, how much time have we wasted? How long has this silly business taken?” she demanded, in a frenzy of apprehension.
Garth surveyed her oddly in the glow of one of the car's side-lights, which he had carried back with him when he fetched the brandy.
“Five minutes, I should think,” he said, adding under his breath: “Or half eternity!”
“Five minutes! Is that all? Then do let's hurry on.”
She took a few steps in the direction of the car, then stopped and wavered. She felt curiously shaky, and her legs seemed as though they did not belong to her.
In a moment Garth was at her side, and had lifted her up in his arms. He carried her swiftly across the few yards that intervened between them and the car, and settled her gently into her seat.
“Do you feel fit to go on?” he asked.