ALIX, NICHOLAS, AND WEST
1
Nicholas, coming in ten minutes later, found Alix lying in his cane chair, limp and white and sick.
'My dear,' he said after a glance, 'you seem very ill. You prescribe, and I'll see if West has any in his medicine cupboard.'
'Sal-volatile, perhaps,' Alix murmured, and he went to find some. When he came back, she was sitting up, with a more pulled-together air. She sipped the sal-volatile, and gave him a dim, crooked smile.
'It's my feelings really, you know, not my body. It's only that I'm ... shocked to death.'
Nicholas stood, short and square, with his back to the fire, looking down on her with his small, keen, observant eyes.
'What's shocked you?'
'Me myself,' said Alix, forcing an unconcerned grin. 'Alone I did it.'
'What on earth's the matter, Alix?' asked Nicholas after a pause. 'Or don't you want to talk about it?'