.." said his
conscience again.
In about a minute Mrs. Tarns reappeared at the head of the stairs.
"Her _will_ have ye, mester!" said she to the councillor.
Thomas Batchgrew mounted after her.
Louis made a noise with his tongue as if starting a horse, and
returned to the parlour.
Rachel, still on the sofa, showed her wet face.
"I've got no secret," she said passionately. "And I'm sure Mrs. Maldon
hasn't. What's he driving at?"
The natural freedom of her gestures and vehement accent was enchanting
to Louis.
She jumped from the Chesterfield and ran away upstairs, flying.
He followed to the lobby, and saw her dash into her own room and
feverishly shut the door, which was in full view at the top of
the stairs. And Louis thought he had never lived in any moment so
exquisite and so alarming as that moment.
He was now alone on the ground floor. He caught no sound from above.
"Well, I'd better get out of this," he said to himself. "Anyhow, I'm
all right!... What a girl! Terrific!" And, lighting a fresh cigarette,
he left the house.
V
"And now what's amiss?" Thomas Batchgrew demanded, alone with Mrs.
Maldon in the tranquillity of the bedroom.
Mrs. Maldon lay once more in bed; the bedclothes covered her without
a crease, and from the neat fold-back of the white sheet her wrinkled
ivory face and curving black hair emerged so still and calm that her
recent flight to the stairs seemed unreal, impossible.
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