Tenderly I placed my love upon the couch, and then rang the bell.
In answer to my summons the young Italian man-servant appeared.
"Send Mallock here quickly," I said. "Miss Shand is not well. But say nothing of this to your mistress, or to the other servants. You understand, Egisto?"
"Cer-tainly, sare," replied the smart young Tuscan, and a few moments later the door re-opened to admit the thin-faced maid in black, wearing her muslin apron and gold-rimmed glasses.
She dashed across to the couch in an instant, and bent, looking into the white, immobile face of my well-beloved.
"I fear your mistress has fainted, Mallock, so I thought it best to call you. I have, unfortunately, imparted to her some news which has upset her. Will you please see after her?"
"Of course, sir. I'll go and get some smelling salts and some water."
And quickly the girl disappeared. Then, when she had gone, I stood before the inanimate form of the woman I loved so well, and wondered what could be the real, actual truth.
Her admission had taken me aback. She had confessed to visiting my friend, but had alleged that he had compelled her. Was she actually beneath some mysterious thraldom—was she held in some secret bondage by the man I had trusted and who was my best friend?
The very suspicion of it filled me with a fierce irresponsible anger, and I clenched my fists.