The sound of the fall seemed to awaken the girl. She stirred uneasily once or twice.
“What ... what is it?” she muttered, and was still again.
Bending down, the young man gathered her up in his arms and bore her out through the door with the blue curtain, through a plainly furnished sort of office with high desks and stools, and out by a side door into a paved yard. There an open car was standing. The fresh air seemed to revive the girl further. As the young man laid her on the seat, she struggled up into a sitting position and passed her hand across her forehead.
“What is the matter with me?” she said in a dazed voice; “I feel so ill!”
Then, catching sight of the young man as he peered into her face, she exclaimed:
“Robin!”
“Thank God, you’re all right, Mary,” said Robin. “We’ve not got a moment to lose. We must get away from here quick!”
He was at the bonnet cranking up the car. But the engine, chilled by the cold air, refused to start. As he was straining at the handle, a man dashed suddenly into the yard by the office door.
It was Jeekes. The little secretary was a changed man. He still wore his pince-nez. But his mild air had utterly forsaken him. His face was livid, the eyes bulged horribly from his head, and his whole body was trembling with emotion. In his hand he held an automatic pistol. He came so fast that he was at the car and had covered Robin with his weapon before the other had seen him come.
Mr. Jeekes left Robin no time to act. He called out in a voice that rang like a pistol shot: