She was reassured. Anthony gathered the still body in his arms and bore it into the room.
He withdrew to the background while Sir Arthur and the girl ministered. Had he wished he could not have helped them. He had held Her in his arms. His heart hammered at his ribs. He felt—though he would not have acknowledged it—actually giddy. Only by an effort did he manage to mask his face with its usual impassivity. His one desire for the moment was to get away and think; to leave this house before he did more harm. Reason; thought; his sense of justice—all deserted him.
Sir Arthur stepped back from the couch. Colour had come back to the cheeks of the woman. The lids of the eyes had flickered. Sir Arthur turned.
Anthony touched him on the arm. “I think we’re superfluous, you know,” he said.
The other nodded. “You’re right. I’ve told Dora I’d send a doctor, but she doesn’t seem to think it’s necessary. Come on.”
They slipped from the room, and in two minutes were walking back along the river-bank towards the bridge.
Chapter VI.
The Secretary and the Sister
1
They had walked for perhaps two hundred yards before the elder man broke the silence.
“I hope Lucia will be all right,” he said. “Probably it was the heat. It’s a scorcher to-day.”