“I must tell you one thing: There’s nothing to fear. We’ll watch for you to-night—O’Leary’s arranged that,” she said rapidly, misunderstanding him. “He’s got two men to spend the night—the men who were here that night.”
“You did that,” he said, and he patted her hand gently, while a smile came to his face for the first time.
“Would you like them in to-night? Wouldn’t it be easier to have a party?” she said, looking at him anxiously, longing to stir him out of himself. “Wouldn’t that occupy you?”
“No, no,” he said, shrinking at the thought; “to-morrow, not to-night. You don’t understand—it’s quiet I want now, to stop this thing beating in here.” His hand went to his forehead and his fingers strained there as though in the effort to seize some throbbing torment underneath and crush it. Instinctively her arm drew tight about his body, pressing him close to her, and she said impressively, tears rising to her eyes:
“Oh, Mr. Dan, why can’t I help you? I would give anything—anything to be of some good.”
“What’s that?” he said, suddenly sitting up, his head on one side, listening. “On the roof—just now—didn’t you hear?”
She went swiftly to the window and looked out.
“Nothing at all,” she said, smiling at him as at a startled child. “What a crazy idea!”
The moment she had said the careless words, she regretted it.
“Crazy? You think I’m crazy?” he said, jerking around.