'Take my arm; let me help you down, then you can tell me all that has happened.'
With her two hands she caught his arm in a convulsive grip. At her touch they saw that his countenance changed. As they descended side by side upon his face was a curious expression, almost as if he was afraid of his companion. As she came the others retreated. When he led her into a room the others followed at a distance, showing a disposition to linger in the doorway. He brought her to a chair.
'Here is a seat. Sit down.'
She glanced with her dim eyes furtively to the front and back, to the right and left, continuing to clutch his arm, as if unwilling to relinquish its protection. He was obviously embarrassed.
'Did you not hear what I said? Here is a seat. Let me go.'
She neither answered nor showed any signs of releasing him. He called to those in the doorway:
'Come and help me, someone; she grips my arm as in a vice. Mrs. Powell, I must insist upon your doing as I request. Let me go!'
With a sudden wrench he jerked himself away. Deprived of his support, she dropped on to the ground. Indifferent to her apparent helplessness, he hurried to the trio at the door.
'There's something awful about her--worse than madness. She has given me quite a nervous shock.'
'General' Robins answered; he was one of the three who had come with Mr. Treadman.