r; then as he felt her weight
upon him he bent and gathered her bodily into his arms. She sank into
them, more nearly fainting than she had ever been in her life; and,
straightening himself, he turned rigidly, and bore her into the inner
room.

He laid her upon the bed there, but still with shaking, powerless fingers
she tried to cling to him.

"Don't leave me! Don't go!" she besought him.

He took her hands and put them from him. He turned to leave her, but even
then she caught his sleeve.

"Piet, I--I want to--to tell you something," she managed to say.

He wheeled round and bent over her. There was something of violence in
his action.

"Tell me nothing!" he ordered harshly. "Be silent! Anne, do you hear me?
Do you hear me?"

Under the compulsion of his look and voice she submitted at last.
Trembling she hid her face.

And in another moment she heard his step as he went out, heard him close
the door and the sharp click of the key as he turned it in the lock.

CHAPTER XII

For many, many seconds after his departure she lay without breathing,
exactly as he had left her, listening, listening with all the strength
that remained to her for the sounds of conflict.

But all she heard was Piet's voice pitched so low that she could not
catch a word. Then came Jerry's in sharp, staccato tones. He seemed to be
surprised at something, surprised and indignant. Twice she heard him
fling out an emphatic denial. And, while she still listened with a
panting heart, there came the tread of their feet upon the stairs,
and she knew that they had descended to the lower regions.

For a long, long while she still crouched there listening, but there came
to her straining ears no hubbub of blows--only the sound of men's voices
talking together in the room below her, with occasional silences between.
Once indeed she fancied that Jerry spoke with passionate vehemence, but
the outburst--if such it were--evoked no response.

Slowly the minutes dragged away. It was growing very late. What could be
happening? What were they saying to each other? When--when would this
terrible strain of waiting be over?

Hark! What was that? The tread of feet once more and the sound of an
opening door. Ah, what were they doing? What? What?

Trembling afresh she raised herself on the bed to listen. There came to
her the sudden throbbing of a motor-engine. He had come in his car, then,
and now he was going, going without another word to her,