The last of her fear had vanished at sight of his helplessness, and she was feeling that same need for action which had weighed so heavily on Griff a while ago. He dropped obediently into the armchair. "When did you last have food?" went on Janet. "I--I forget. Some time this morning, I believe--just before the child died." She went off to the pantry without another word, and brought out cold beef and bread. A bottle of whisky was standing on the sideboard, and she poured him out a liberal allowance. "Now, eat and drink. It was high time you sought some one who could look after you." Griff shook his head. "I can't," he muttered obstinately. "You shall," she answered quietly, putting a plate on his knee, and the tumbler on the hob beside him. Again he succumbed to the stronger will, and did as he was bid. His appetite grew with each mouthful, and he passed his plate for more when he had finished. And after that he mechanically pulled out his pipe, filled and lit it. "There!" said Janet, approvingly. "Smoke away, and tell me all about it." Griff almost smiled at her quaint, elderly air. It seemed very much like a dream, all this; and easily as in a dream he found himself telling Janet all that had happened. She was quiet for a little after he had finished; then-- "We were talking about you, Leo and I, not long ago. He told me of your wife's death, and I was, oh, so sorry for you, though I had never even seen you. Only, I can guess what the feeling must be. If Leo were to die, I think I should just stop living and have done with it." She was craftily drawing him away from his own trouble, and into hers. "You won't think it odd of me to be talking to you like this? Because, you see, Leo tells me you know all our story." "How do you come to be here?" said Griff, abruptly. "I couldn't bear it any longer, so I came; that's why. And Leo was--was _a brute_ to me. That is why I hadn't the heart to be afraid of you when you came." "A brute? How do you mean?" "He talked of my sacrificing myself, and he lectured me, just as if I had been a silly school-girl, following the first romantic notion she had got into her head. If Leo _could_ have killed my love, he would have done it long ago: he shocks and hurts me when he is angry. Poor old boy!" she broke off suddenly. "He is doing more for that--that woman, than I would ever do. And here am I blaming him for being a brute." "Which woman?" asked Griff, who was still struggling with his faculties. "The woman who calls herself his wife. The nurse sent across, soon after I came, to say that she was unmanageable, and Leo went with her. I expect him home every minute. I want him back, too, though I know he will be angrier than ever with me; he always is after these struggles. It costs him so much not to let her die at these times." "Did Roddick allow you to stay here?"