“Very good, sir.”
With a last, admiring glance at the slender figure on the couch the good woman bustled away, leaving Magda alone with her unknown host and burning with indignation at the cool way in which he had ordered her to remain where she was.
He had his back to her for the moment, having turned to poke up the fire, and Magda raised herself on her elbow, preparatory to getting off the couch. He swung round instantly.
“I told you to stay where you were,” he said peremptorily.
“I don’t always do as I’m told,” she retorted with spirit.
“You will in this instance, though,” he rejoined, crossing the room swiftly towards her.
But quick though he was, she was still quicker. Her eyes blazing defiance, she slipped from the couch and stood up before he could reach her side. She took a step forward.
“There!” she began defiantly. The next moment the whole room seemed to swim round her as she tottered weakly and would have fallen had he not caught her.
“What did I tell you?” he said sharply. “You’re not fit to stand.”
Without more ado he lifted her up in his arms and deposited her again on the couch.