"I haven't been looking too sober, have I? I didn't know I was looking sober at all."
She was looking quaint, and lovely; in the plain wrapper she had put on and the soft thoughtful air and mien, in contrast with which the diamonds jumped and flashed with every motion of her hand. A study book lay in her lap.
"How did all that happen last night?" said Mr. Linden abruptly.
"Why!"—said Faith colouring and looking down at her ring—"I was standing in the doorway and Nero was coming out with that great lamp; and when he got opposite the screen something fell on it, I believe, from the burning bookcases, and it was thrown over against him—I thought the lamp and he would all go over together—and I jumped;—and in putting up my hand to the lamp I suppose, for I don't remember, the fluid must have run down my arm and on my shoulder—I don't know how it got on fire, but it must have been from some of the burning wood that fell. The next I knew, you were carrying me to the drawing-room—I have a recollection of that."
He listened with very grave eyes.
"Were you trying to take the lamp from Nero?"
"O no. I thought it was going to fall over."
"What harm would it have done the floor?"
The tinge of colour on Faith's cheek deepened considerably, and her eyes lifted not themselves from the diamonds. She was not ready to speak.
"I did not think of the floor"—