He made his camp in the library on the ground floor, and there presently Suzette Bligh came to see him. She gave a good account of the wounded child. Sophy slept; the capable cheery woman who had come as nurse gave her courage to sleep. "We must get her away to the seaside as soon as possible, and she'll get all right, I think; though there must be a mark always. And of course the permanent question remains. Isn't it all hopeless, Mr. Imason?" "It's a terrible business for you to be involved in." "Oh, I can only thank heaven I was here! But for me I believe she'd have killed the child." "What state is she in now?" "I really don't know. She won't speak to me. She sits quite still, just staring at me. I try to stay with her, but it's too dreadful. I can't help hating her--and I think she knows it." Grantley had some experience of coming to know what people felt about him. "I expect she does," he nodded. "What will happen, Mr. Imason?" "I don't know--except that the children mustn't stay with her. Is she afraid of being prosecuted, do you think?" "She hasn't said anything about it. No, she doesn't seem afraid; I don't think that's her feeling. But--but her eyes look awful. When I had to tell her that the doctor had forbidden her to come near the children, and said he would send the police into the house if she tried to go to them--well, I've never seen such an expression on any human face before. She looked like--like somebody in hell, Mr. Imason." "Ah!" groaned Grantley with a jerk of his head, as though he turned from a fearful spectacle. "I've just been with her. I persuaded her to go to bed--she's not slept since it happened, I know--and got her to let me help her to undress. Her maid won't go to her; she's too frightened. I hope she'll go to sleep, or really I think she'll lose her senses." She paused and then asked: "Will this make any difference in--in the proceedings?" "Well, it gives Tom something to bargain with, doesn't it? But you can't tell with her. The ordinary motives may not appeal to her, any more than the natural feelings. I hope it may be possible to frighten her." "Anyhow the children won't have to stay--you're sure of that?" "We must try hard for that," said Grantley. But Tom had made even that more difficult, because he had considered only his own quarrel, and, not thinking of the children, had run away to refuge with Mrs. Bolton, saving his own skin by treacherous flight. Suzette bade Grantley good-night. She too must sleep, or her strength would fail. "You'll keep the door open?" she asked. "And her room is just over this. You'll hear if she moves, though I don't think she will. It is good of you, Mr. Imason. We shall all sleep quietly to-night. Oh, but how tired you'll be!" "Not I!" he smiled. "I've often sat up till daylight on less worthy occasions. You're the hero! You've come through this finely." Suzette's cheeks flushed at his praise.