" Her resolution seemed
magnificent. "I have no one to go with me."
"He must marry her," said the man.
"She has no friends. We have no one. After all--Two women.--So
helpless."
And this fair-haired little figure was the woman that people who
knew her only from her books, called bold, prurient even! Simply
because she was great-hearted--intellectual. He was overcome by
the unspeakable pathos of her position.
"Mrs. Milton," he said. "Hetty!"
She glanced at him. The overflow was imminent. "Not now," she
said, "not now. I must find her first."
"Yes," he said with intense emotion. (He was one of those big,
fat men who feel deeply.) "But let me help you. At least let me
help you."
"But can you spare time?" she said. "For ME."
"For you--"
"But what can I do? what can WE do?"
"Go to Midhurst. Follow her on. Trace her. She was there on
Thursday night, last night. She cycled out of the town. Courage!"
he said. "We will save her yet!"
She put out her hand and pressed his again.
"Courage!" he repeated, finding it so well received.
There were alarms and excursions without. She turned her back to
the fire, and he sat down suddenly in the big armchair, which
suited his dimensions admirably. Then the door opened, and the
girl showed in Dangle, who looked curiously from one to the
other. There was emotion here, he had heard the armchair
creaking, and Mrs. Milton, whose face was flushed, displayed a
suspicious alacrity to explain. "You, too," she said, "are one of
my good friends.
Pages:
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131