"The poor chap is dead," he said. "It's the only thing to do."
She turned back to the face upon the pillow with its staring, sightless
eyes. She raised a pitying hand to close them, but Curtis intervened.
He drew her to her feet. "Go!" he said. "Go! Keep Mercer away, that's
all!"
She heard the jingling of a horse's bit and knew that the rider was very
near. Mechanically almost, she turned from the place of death and went
to meet him.
XV
He was off his horse and striding for the entrance when she encountered
him. The starlight on his face showed it livid and terrible. At sight
of her he stopped short.
"Are you mad?" he said.
They were the identical words that Curtis had used; but his voice,
hoarse, unnatural, told her that he was in a dangerous mood.
She backed away from him. "Don't come near me!" she said quickly.
"He--he is just dead. And I have been with him."
"He?" he flung at her furiously, and she knew by his tone that he
suspected the truth.
She tried to answer him steadily, but her strength was beginning to fail
her. The long strain was telling upon her at last. She was uncertain of
herself.
"It--was Robin Wentworth," she said.
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