The woman went to the door and spoke softly to her companion.
“It's all right now; she's getting over it.”
“It's all wrong, I tell you,” said the other with an oath, and in a tone of concentrated rage. “There are two of your neighbour's boys prying about in front and trying to peer through the window. For heaven's sake get rid of her and let her go as soon as you can.”
She was about to return to Fan when he called her back.
“Take her to the station yourself,” he said; and proceeded to give her some directions which she promised to obey, after which she came back to Fan, to find her at the window feebly struggling to unfasten the stiff catch.
“Don't you be afraid any more, my dear,” she said effusively. “I'll take you back to the station as soon as you're well enough to walk. You've had a fall against the table and hurt yourself a little, but you'll soon be all right.”
Fan looked at her and shrunk away as she approached, and then turned her eyes, dilating again with fear, towards the door.
“He's gone, my dear, and won't come near you again, so don't you fear. Sit down quietly and I'll make you a cup of tea, and then you'll be able to walk to the station.”
But Fan would not be reassured, and continued piteously begging the woman to let her out.
“Very well, you shall go out; only take a little brandy first to give you strength to walk.”