"Ain't you coming with me?"
"Yes, I'm coming."
She hastened towards him. Graham interposed.
"Let him go. There are one or two things about which we should like to speak to you, this young lady and I, after he has gone."
But she would have none of him. Shrinking back, she stared at him, in silence, for a second or two; then began to shriek at him like some wild creature.
"I won't stay!--I won't!--I shall go!--I shall! You tried to get my key--my key! You touch it--you dare! You asked me if my name"--she stopped, stared about as if in terror, gave a great sigh, "You asked me if my name----"
She stopped again--and sighed again, the pupils of her eyes dilating as she watched and listened for what was invisible and inaudible to all but her. Graham moved forward, intending to soothe her. Mistaking, apparently, his intention, she rushed at him with outstretched arms, giving utterance to yell after yell. In a moment she was past him and flying from the house.
Her male companion, who stood still in the doorway, pointed his thumb over his shoulder with a grin.
"There you are, you see--drove her out of her seven senses! So you have."
Much more leisurely, the man went after the woman.