"I was just coming to say good-bye to Kitty," began Penelope. "I'd no idea the time had flown so quickly."
"Charm of my society," murmured Barry.
Peter's face was rather white and set, but he managed to reply in a voice that sounded fairly normal.
"Kitty's very fagged and she's going to rest for a few minutes before dressing for dinner. She asked me to say good-bye to you for her, Penelope."
"Then it falls to my lot to speed the parting guest," said Barry cheerily. "Peter, old son, can the car take you on anywhere after dropping Penny at the Mansions?"
Peter was conscious of a sudden panic. He had just come from baring the rawness of his wound to Kitty, and, gently as her fingers had probed, even the kind hands of a friend may sometimes hurt excruciatingly. He felt that at the moment he could not endure the companionship of any living soul.
"No, thanks," he answered jerkily. "I'll walk."
CHAPTER VIII
THE MIDDLE OF THE STAIRCASE
Mallow Court, the Seymours' country home, lay not a mile from the village of St. Wennys. A low, two-storied house of creeper-clad stone, it stood perched upon the cliffs, overlooking the wild sea which beats up against the Cornish coast.