That was at first. During the day, however, as he gained strength, he grew restless and uneasy. As the time approached for Peter to leave, he was clearly struggling with himself. The landlady had agreed to care for him and was bustling about the room. During one of her absences he turned to Peter.
“I suppose Marie hasn't been round?”
“She came back last night.”
“Did she tell you?”
“Yes, poor child.”
“She's a devil!” Stewart said, and lay silent. Then: “I saw her shoot that thing out in front of us, but there was no time—Where is she now?”
“Marie? I sent her to Vienna.”
Stewart fell back, relieved, not even curious.
“Thank Heaven for that!” he said. “I don't want to see her again. I'd do something I'd be sorry for. The kindest thing to say for her is that she was not sane.”
“No,” said Peter gravely, “she was hardly sane.”