"Look!" exclaimed Ann Mullins, propping up the fainting woman beside her, "he's goin'."
Marcella bent forward. She, rather than the wife, caught the last look on his large dwarf's face, so white and dazed, the eyes blinking under the gas.
Aldous touched her softly on the arm.
"Yes," she said quickly, "yes, we must get her out. Ann, can you lift her?"
Aldous went to one side of the helpless woman: Ann Mullins held her on the other. Marcella followed, pressing the little girl close against her long black cloak. The gallery made way for them; every one looked and whispered till they had passed. Below, at the foot of the stairs, they found themselves in a passage crowded with people—lawyers, witnesses, officials, mixed with the populace. Again a road was opened for Aldous and his charges.
"This way, Mr. Raeburn," said a policeman, with alacrity. "Stand back, please! Is your carriage there, sir?"
"Let Ann Mullins take her—put them into the cab—I want to speak to Mr.
Wharton," said Marcella in Aldous's ear.
"Get me a cab at once," he said to the policeman, "and tell my carriage to wait."
"Miss Boyce!"
Marcella turned hastily and saw Wharton beside her. Aldous also saw him, and the two men interchanged a few words.