"I never thought. My home was at Bazelhurst
Castle--their home. I can't go there. Good heavens, what am I to do?"
A long time afterward she recalled his exultant exclamation, checked
at its outset--recalled it with a perfect sense of understanding. With
rare good taste he subdued whatever it was that might have struggled
for expression and simply extended his right hand to relieve her of
the lantern.
"We never have been enemies, Miss Drake," he said, controlling his
voice admirably. "But had we been so up to this very instant, I am
sure I'd surrender now. I don't know what has happened at the Villa.
It doesn't matter. You are here to ask my protection and my help. I am
at your service, my home is yours, my right hand also. You are tired
and wet and--nervous. Won't you come inside? I'll get a light in a
jiffy and Mrs. Ulrich, my housekeeper, shall be with you as soon as
I can rout her out. Come in, please." She held back doubtfully, a
troubled, uncertain look in her eyes.
"You _will_ understand, won't you?" she asked simply.
"And no questions asked," he said from the doorway. Still she held
back, her gaze going involuntarily to the glasses on the table. He
interpreted the look of inquiry. "There were two of us. The doctor was
here picking out the shot, that's all. He's gone. It's all right. Wait
here and I'll get a light." The flame in her lantern suddenly ended
its feeble life.
She stood inside his doorway and heard him shuffle across the floor in
search of the lamps.
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