“You wrote to Stella, you said?”
“Yes,” replied Herold.
“What will happen to her?”
“I don't know.”
John groaned. “If only I had protected her as I ought to have done! If only I had protected both of them!”
He relapsed again into silence, burying his face in his hands. Presently Miss Lindon put the pug tenderly on the ground, rose, and stood by his chair.
“My poor boy,” she said, “do you love her so much?”
“She's dead,” said John.
Herold shook him by the shoulder. “Nonsense, man. Pull yourself together.”
John raised a drawn face.