“That's all right!” he murmured, huskily. “That's all right, Mary!” There was a short silence; and then he went on speaking, more firmly. “You know, he'll look after you.”
He would have said more, but he could not. It seemed to him that the sobs of the girl caught in his own throat. Yet, presently, he strove once again, with every reserve of his strength; and, finally, he so far mastered himself that he could speak calmly. The words were uttered with a subtle renunciation that was this man's religion.
“Yes, he'll take care of you. Why, I'd like to see the two of you with about three kiddies playing round the house.”
He looked up over the girl's shoulder, and beckoned with his head to Dick, who came forward at the summons.
“Take good care of her, won't you?”
He disengaged himself gently from the girl's embrace, and set her within the arms of her husband, where she rested quietly, as if unable to fight longer against fate's decree.
“Well, so long!”
He dared not utter another word, but turned blindly, and went, stumbling a little, toward the doorman, who had appeared in answer to the Inspector's call.
“To the Gallery,” Burke ordered, curtly.
Garson went on without ever a glance back.... His strength was at an end.