"Doctor Askew," he replied quietly. "Don't be alarmed, Miss Blake. Mr. Hunt and I have been looking after you. Not that you've been much trouble," he smiled; "on the contrary. You've been fast asleep for more than twelve hours. We both envy you." For a long two minutes she did not reply. Then, "Oh, yes," she said. "Oh, yes." Her chin began to quiver, she visibly shuddered through her whole slight frame, and for an instant pressed her palms hard against her eyes. "Ambo," she murmured, "it was cruel--worse than anything! I got to the 'phone all right, didn't I? Yes, I remember that. I gave the message. But I knew I must go back to her. So much blood, Ambo.... I'm a coward--oh, I'm a coward! But I tried, I did try to go back! Where _did_ I go, Ambo?" "You went to sleep like a sensible little woman!" struck in Doctor Askew, briskly. "You'd done all you could, all anyone could--so you went to sleep. I wish to God more women under such circumstances would follow your example! Much better than going all to pieces and making a scene!" Susan could not respond to his encouraging smile. "To sleep!" she sighed miserably; "just as I did--once before. What a coward I am! When awful things happen, I dodge them--I run away." "Nonsense, dear. You knew Gertrude was beyond helping, didn't you?" "Yes; but if she hadn't been?" She shook her head impatiently. "You're both trying to be kind; but you won't be able to make me forgive myself--not this time. I don't rise to a crisis--I slump. Artemis wouldn't have; nor Gertrude. You know that's true, Ambo. Even if I could do nothing for her--there were others to think of. There was you. I ought to have been helping you; not you, me." She put out her hand to me. "You've done everything for me, always--and I make no return. Now, when I might have, I--I've been a quitter!" Tears of shame and self-reproach poured from her eyes. "Oh," she cried out with a sort of fierce disgust, "how I hate a coward! How I hate myself!" "Come, come!" protested Doctor Askew. "This won't do, little lady!" He laid a firm hand on her shoulder and almost roughly shook it, as if she had been a boy. "If you're equal to it, I suggest you get up and wash your face in good cold water. Do your hair, too--put yourself to rights! Things never look quite normal to a woman, you know, when her hair's tumbling!" His hand slipped from her shoulder to her upper arm; he drew the coverlet from her, and helped her to rise. "All right? Feel your pins under you?... Fine! Need a maid? No?... Splendid! Come along, Mr. Hunt, we'll wait for the little lady in the drawing-room. She'll soon pull herself together." He joined me and walked with me to the door. Susan had not moved as yet from the bedside. "Ambo," she demanded unexpectedly, "does Sister know?" "Yes, dear." "Why isn't she with me then? Is her cold worse?"