nt the touch of her damp
curls and the faint odour of her skin moved him strangely. She might
be demented, but it was not easy for him to forget that she was Esther.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered in her ear. "I promise you he sha'n't
come near you."

She sank back with a quivering sigh; only the faintest pressure of her
hand on his showed him she understood. He looked about with the idea
of discovering some cover to put over her, for she seemed on the verge
of a chill. As he did so he discovered Therese standing motionless in
her doorway, a silent spectator. His eyes caught hers, and the
expression on her face made him stare fixedly at her. Why was she
gazing in that way at him and at Esther? He felt he had caught
something in her eyes which she had not meant to be seen. What was it?
It looked like fear--sudden, abject fear. Why were her eyes widened in
that fashion? He found himself examining her curiously....

All at once an impossible idea shot across his brain, searing it like a
red-hot iron. Could there, after all, be some underlying grain of
truth in that wild accusation Esther had uttered a moment ago? At
least some deceptive semblance of fact in it? It was nonsense, of
course, to consider such a thing, yet... The expression in the grey
eyes altered completely, the look he had seen was gone. Lady Clifford
came forward with an exclamation of concern.

"_Mon Dieu_, what is all this? How did that poor creature get here,
and in such a state? Why, look--her clothes are soaking! She must
have been in the rain for hours! And blood here on her face!"

The old lady whispered an explanation.

"She rushed in here a moment ago, Therese, you must have heard her.
She seems so queer and upset, and has been saying the wildest things!
And, isn't it odd, she refuses to allow the doctor to come near her at
all!"

"Does she? Very odd, indeed!"

With another glance at the canape, Lady Clifford turned towards the
doctor.

"What do you think one ought to do, doctor?" she inquired. "She can't
stay here, naturally. Don't you think one should try to get her into
some really safe place, where she could be properly looked after?"

Something a little tense and sharp in the tone riveted Roger's
attention. With his arm still about Esther he turned his head and
listened. He heard the heavy tones of Sartorius make answer evenly,
without emotion of any kind:

"She is still raving; we must simply let her be