When she came to herself, she found that her brother had quitted the room, leaving her to the care of a female attendant. “I think,” he said, “that I am right. ‘How the deuce did she get out without me seeing her?’ ‘Took advantage of the distraction, cunning little devil,’ Gerald snapped, racing down the corridor. His breath grew shallower as he approached the room, conscious of the loudness of his hallway-reverberated footfalls. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve.
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