“Oh yes he is,” laughed the traveller pleasantly. “There is only one F. J. Dotterel in the Government service at Bhamo. Married out there. Got three or four jolly little children.”
She looked at him for a moment haggardly, and grew white to the lips. The loss of blood made her face look pinched and death-like. She tried to utter some words, but only a few inarticulate sounds came from her throat. There was a moment's intense silence, every one around her knowing what had happened. Then she swayed sideways, and Felicia caught her in her arms.
She had fainted. The table rose in confusion. Amid a hubbub of voices was heard Mme. Popea's explaining to Mr. Wanless the nature of his indiscretion.
“I will carry her to her room,” said Raine, lifting her thin body in his arms. “Come and help me,” he added, signing with his head to Felicia and Katherine.
They followed him out and upstairs. He laid her down on her bed.
“You know what to do, don't you?” he said to Katherine, as he left the two with the unconscious lady.
“Poor thing. It will break her heart,” whispered Katherine, as she busied herself with the hooks and eyes and laces.
“I don't much believe in the fragility of women's hearts,” said Felicia.
“Why do you say that, Felicia?” said Katherine gently. “You know that you don't mean it.”
“Oh!” said Felicia with a little inflexion of superciliousness, “I generally say what I mean.”