"Suppose Cousin Patrine never came to see you any more, what would you do then?"
Bawne straightened the sturdy body and proclaimed:
"I would go and find her and bring her back!"
"Suppose she did not want to come?"
Bawne said instantly:
"I would tell her Mother was wanting her. For Mother would be, you know. And Cousin Pat wouldn't keep her waiting. Not much, sir, she wouldn't!"
"She cares so?"
"Doesn't she! Why, have you forgotten when I was a little shaver and Mother was so ill?"
Saxham, with a certain tightening of the muscles of the throat, recalled the wan, red-eyed spectre that had haunted the landing outside the guarded bedroom where Lynette lay, white and strengthless, while her husband fought for her with Death.
"Well, well. Go on loving Patrine and praying for her! Now tell me of your model."