Madge gasped. That the creature was mad, at the best, she made no doubt. But that conviction, in the present situation, was of small assistance. What was she to do?
As she asked herself this question, with no slight sense of helplessness, the gate clicked behind her. Some one entered the garden.
It was Bruce Graham.
CHAPTER XI
[UNDER THE SPELL]
"Mr. Graham!" she exclaimed. "Really, I do believe that if I had been asked what thing I most desired at this particular moment, I should have answered--you!"
Graham's sombre features were chastened by a smile.
"That's very good of you."
"Look here!" Laying one hand against his arm, with the other she pointed at the sitting-room window. His glance followed her finger-tips.
"Who's that?"