But I feel tired. Will you ask Mrs. Twist to
come and have a gossip?" she said casually.
The pain came back, quite astonishing her. She had heard that it was
horrible, but had not expected it to be quite so horrible as this. Her
mind had only room for one thought--that Louis must not suspect--or, in
his anxiety; he would lose grip on himself and make away for Cook's
Wall and oblivion. Going into her bedroom she took pencil and paper and
wrote a note to Mrs. Twist, who understood the plot and was ready to
invent some lost sheep for Jerry and Louis to hunt up.
"Can you come up? I think it's happening to me. Please send Louis away,"
she wrote, and folded the note into an envelope which she fastened down.
That moment she found herself crying out without her own volition. She
slammed the door and lay down on the floor inside it, to barricade it
against Louis. She heard his steps coming along the verandah and
clenched her hands fiercely over her mouth.
"Did you cry out then, dear?" came his voice as he pushed at the door.
Feeling an obstruction he pushed all the harder: she could not speak,
but he took in at a glance her twisted figure and as he bent over her,
shaking with fright, she caught at his hands.
"I thought I'd do it all by myself, but I can't bear it," she gasped.
"Oh my darling," he cried, lifting her in his arms and holding her
tight.
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