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He stared at the girl searchingly. Her eyes were closed, she had the look of complete exhaustion. He could almost not believe she had spoken those significant words. Did she know what she was saying? Was it mere accident that her last sentence had sounded so astonis.h.i.+ngly rational?
Still keeping one arm beneath her shoulders he once more looked around and took a cautious survey of the other end of the room. Therese was no longer to be seen; she must have slipped out, but his aunt was saying something in an anxious undertone to the doctor, who at that moment had moved nearer the fireplace. Watching narrowly Roger noticed the big man put out his hand towards the blazing logs, then saw a small sc.r.a.p of something flimsy and white--it might have been paper, or perhaps a tiny piece of the medical gauze he had been using--flutter into the flames. The gesture was so negligent that in the ordinary way one would not have given it a second thought, yet now, because of Esther's unintelligible reference to a bandage, it awoke in Roger a vague uneasiness. Again the incredible suspicion crossed his mind; he caught himself wondering if just possibly there were more in this than met the eye.
Studying the white, bloodstained face lying against the blue cus.h.i.+on, he asked himself if Esther did really possess some terrible knowledge of which he was completely ignorant. Could her jumbled utterances be linked together into any sort of meaning? As if conscious of his unspoken question she stirred restlessly, muttering words he could not catch, then turned a little away from him on to her right side. As she did so his gaze fell upon her left coat sleeve. There was a spot near the shoulder, no bigger than a half-crown, where the material was oddly frayed and roughened. He examined it closely, then as gently as possible unfastened the coat and slipped it down from the shoulder....
What was this? The heavy crepe-de-Chine blouse underneath, in the spot that corresponded, was punctured with tiny, round holes, a little constellation, thickly grouped. What did it mean? He laid his finger on the spot, but at the touch she recoiled from him with a shudder that shook her from head to foot.
"No, no, not again!" she cried out in her former accents of terror.
He soothed her, gripped by a sudden fear.
"Esther, darling, it's only me, Roger. I won't hurt you," he whispered softly. "Listen to me, dear. I want to know what these marks are on your arm. Try to tell me. Try to tell me where you have spent these past two days."
She opened her lips and moistened them painfully; then as he thought she was going to speak he saw her eyes fix themselves upon a spot above his shoulder, while her whole face became contorted with fright.
Glancing behind him he saw that the doctor had quietly come near them again and was standing, a silent, bulky figure, at the foot of the canape. Filled with annoyance Roger motioned to him to withdraw from the girl's sight, but already it was too late. With a tremor more violent than those preceding she buried her face in the cus.h.i.+on, then lay completely still, so still that Roger became seriously alarmed.
"Here, will someone fetch some brandy?" he demanded abruptly, looking around. "She's fainted. There's a bottle in the cupboard in my bathroom."
The voice of Chalmers answered quickly from the door-way, "Yes, sir, I'll get it, sir."
Anxiously Roger fell to chafing the girl's cold hands then became unpleasantly aware that Sartorius was regarding him with a faintly sardonic expression on his sallow face.
"I suppose you have realised what those marks mean," the doctor said with a slight movement of his head towards the punctured sleeve.
"Well, what do they mean?" returned Roger aggressively.
"Simply what I ought to have guessed all along--that the unfortunate woman is the victim of a drug-habit."
He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Roger to swallow his rage at what seemed to him an insulting suggestion. Drug-victim!
Esther! What an absurdity! Besides, would anyone give herself injections through her sleeves? Preposterous! ... He continued to slap the limp hands. Why did she show no sign of reviving? It seemed to him that her heart scarcely beat at all. The awful idea came to him that she might be dead from shock and weakness.... Why was Chalmers so long over getting the brandy? Becoming desperate with impatience he decided to go himself; perhaps the old man could not find the bottle.
"Dido," he said as his aunt approached with smelling-salts in her hand, "stay with her, don't leave her, do what you can. I'll not be gone a minute."
As the old lady took his place he quickly ran out and along the hall to his room. Reaching the open door he heard a curious sound which came from the lighted bathroom beyond. What was it? It seemed like strained and heavy breathing; then he caught muttered, angry words in French, an expletive that reeked of the gutter. What on earth did it mean? He strove to the door, then halted on the threshold, completely petrified. Speech deserted him, he could only stare, hardly able to credit what he saw.
Facing him, her back against the wall, was Therese, struggling with every ounce of strength she possessed to escape from a man who gripped her firmly by the wrists. Transformed into a tigress, her cheeks burning with pa.s.sion, she writhed and pushed and panted in her efforts to free herself. Her captor's breath came hard; he was barely more than a match for her, yet he never relaxed his hold.
"Therese! What is the meaning of this?"
The man, whom he now saw to be old and grey-haired, turned and looked over his spare shoulder. It was Chalmers.
CHAPTER x.x.xIII
At sight of Roger the Frenchwoman uttered a cry and redoubled her efforts to get away.
"Roger, make him let go, the old swine, the beast, _le sale chameau_!
I dismiss him here, now; he must leave my house. I will have him arrested for attacking me. I... Take him away, Roger, do you hear, do you see what he is doing?"
Before Roger could reply or adjust his confused impressions the old butler panted out:
"Just pick up that bottle from the floor, sir, if you don't mind, and put it in a safe place. Then I'll let her ladys.h.i.+p go."
Speechless from amazement, yet forcibly impressed by the old man's words and serious manner, Roger looked and discovered a bottle of Evian water standing on the tiled floor a few feet away. He picked it up and set it high on a shelf over the basin, then quickly closed the door and stood with his back against it.
"Release her ladys.h.i.+p, Chalmers," he ordered sternly, "and let me hear the reason of this extraordinary behaviour."
Like a steel spring unloosed Therese broke from the butler's grasp and hurled herself against the door.
"Let me out, let me out! Roger, I shall faint, I shall die!"
He looked at her curiously and stood firm as a rock, Chalmers mopped his brow with a handkerchief, still breathing with difficulty. Roger looked from him to Therese, who, half-sobbing now, threw herself again at the door, appealing to him desperately:
"I can't bear it, Roger; I can't breathe the same air with this horrible creature! Didn't you see how he had hold of me, how he----"
A glint came into Roger's eye; he held her off with one arm.
"Yes, Therese, I saw. Now I intend to know why he did it. Tell me the truth, Chalmers."
The old man, who was recovering his poise, coughed apologetically.
"I know how it must have looked to you, sir, but believe me I had a good reason. Perhaps you can persuade her ladys.h.i.+p to tell you what she was about to do with that bottle of mineral water when I came in and caught her at it."
The cry that burst from Therese's lips was like an angry snarl.
"Mineral water! What is the creature talking about I should like to know?"
Unmoved, the butler continued in reply to Roger's unspoken question.
"If her ladys.h.i.+p won't tell you sir, then I will. When I came in here to get the brandy, she had that bottle in her hand. She was just going to pour it down the bath, sir, when I managed to stop her."
"Pour it down the bath!"
"Yes, sir. You may believe it or not, sir, but I should say there was something in that water her ladys.h.i.+p would like get rid of."
Almost overwhelmed by the tumult of suspicion that rose within him, Roger found it hard to keep his head. Mastering himself with an effort and still holding Therese off with one arm he managed to ask evenly:
"What gave you this idea, Chalmers?"
"The nurse, sir," was the prompt reply. "There's something serious behind all this business, and it's my opinion the nurse knows."
Deeply shaken, Roger gazed into the old servant's eyes. What he saw convinced him that Chalmers had not spoken idly. For that matter he knew what a degree of certainty it must have required to make the man attempt such an unheard-of thing as to lay his hands on his mistress.
The inference was staggering.... With a great effort he pulled himself together, remembering Esther.
"Take the brandy to Miss Clifford, Chalmers. I will stay here a moment."
He stood aside to allow the butler to pa.s.s, then shutting the door again turned resolutely to Therese, trying to conceal from her the quandary in which he found himself.