He was stirred to the
depths now. The strain of receiving Dick's onslaught in silence, the
shock of his collapse, and now the fire that Christian's nearness and
dearness had lit in him, all broke his self-control. He held her to
him.
"I will never let you go! Never--!" His lips were on hers again, life,
with all its difficulties, was again forgotten, the rhyme of the
Fairies' Well galloped in his hot brain:
"My heart in your hands, your heart in me."
The sound of the hall door opening, and the grinding roar of a motor
engine running down, recalled them both to this troublesome world.
But in Christian's heart, whether from within or from without, a voice
had spoken, telling the kisses, one by one, as though they were the
petals of a flower. "This year, next year, sometime, never!" If the
last word had been "sometime," or "never," she knew not; she knew only
that if what before her was the way of renunciation, she would find it
a hard way to walk in.
Dr. Mangan stood, a massive presence, at the top of the stairs, and
talked massively to Lady Isabel of Dick's condition.
"Very critical--no worries--nourishment--would he have a nurse?"
To which Lady Isabel, a poor, shaken, pallid Lady Isabel, with no more
backbone than the shape of blancmange, which, it must be said, she
somewhat resembled, replied: "_Nothing_ would induce him!"
"Then I should like to have a little talk with Miss Christian," said
the Big Doctor, beginning to walk downstairs, slowly, solemnly,
solidly, like a trick-elephant at a circus.
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