“No, no!” cried Holly, new fear gripping her heart.
“Holly!” said her aunt. “Go at once, girl. This is no place for you.” But Holly made no answer. Her eyes were fixed on the silent form on the bed. Julian laid his hand on her arm.
“Come,” he said. She started and tore away from him, her eyes ablaze.
“Don’t touch me!” she whispered, hoarsely, shudderingly. “Don’t touch me, Julian! You’ve killed him! I want never to see you again!”
“Holly!” exclaimed Miss India, astoundedly.
“I am going, Auntie.”
Julian held the door open for her, looking troubledly at her as she passed out. But she didn’t see him. The door closed behind her. She heard Julian’s quick steps across the floor and the sound of murmuring voices.
A deep sob shook her from head to feet. Falling to her knees she laid her forehead against the frame of the door, her hands clasping and unclasping convulsively.
“Dear God,” she moaned, “I didn’t mean this! I didn’t mean this!”