"What, dear?"
"Was it—that man?"
James hesitated.
"Tell me," Clemency said imperiously.
"Yes, I think it was."
Clemency glanced as if instinctively at the dog, lying asleep in a white coil on the hearth. "What was the matter with him?" she asked in a hardly audible voice.
"He had fallen, dear, and was unconscious."
"Nothing—" Clemency glanced again at the dog, and did not complete her question.
"He had recovered consciousness," James said hastily.
"Then he is not going to die." It was impossible to say what kind of relief was in the girl's voice, but relief there was.