But Estelle had fainted.
“Here, Dick,” said Beveridge, “bring some water.”
Van Deelen indicated the washstand, and Smiley fetched the pitcher. Beveridge sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her forehead with the cool water. He asked Van Deelen for some whiskey, and forced a little between her teeth. Finally her eyes opened.
“There,” said Beveridge, “that's better. You 'll be all right in a minute. Now tell me why they left you.”
“Look here, Bill,” said Dick, “I can't stand this.”
Beveridge paid no attention, but went on stroking her forehead. “Tell me why they left you, Estelle. They weren't very square with you.”
“It was Pete—” The whiskey had revived her a very little.
“Yes, I know. You were mistaken in Pete. He never meant to stand by you.”
“He said—”
“Yes—go on.”