“Good-bye!” he said. “Take care of her, Arabian.”
She sent him a look full of intense and hostile inquiry. He met it with a half-amused smile.
“I shall do better now,” he said.
“Ah?” said Arabian, looking polite and imperturbable.
“Come along!” said Miss Van Tuyn. “It must be getting late.”
As she spoke a clock in the room began striking five. For a moment she felt confused and almost ill. Her brain seemed too full of rushing thoughts for its holding capacity. Her head throbbed. Her legs felt weak.
“Anything the matter?” asked Garstin, gazing at her with keen attention and curiosity.
“No,” she said coldly. “Good-bye.”
And she went down the stairs followed by Arabian.
Garstin did not accompany them. He had gone to stand before his picture of Arabian.