She lay almost passive in his embrace, her lips parted, her eyes fixed on his. He gave another short laugh, half indulgent, half triumphant. "What a little saint! Come! Show me why you came to me to-night! Be human! Be what you know you are!" Clodagh made no answer; but he felt her sway a little in his arms. "What is it?" he asked sharply. Selfish annoyance was written on his face, though he asked the question solicitously. "I feel faint," she said--"a little faint." "Faint? Nonsense! It will pass. Rest for a moment." Without ceremony, he half lifted her across the room to a couch that stood between the fireplace and the door. "Poor little girl! Don't be frightened! It will pass in a minute. Is there anything you would like?" Clodagh opened her eyes. "A little water, I think," she said in a tremulous voice. His face cleared. "Or some champagne! Nothing would pick you up like a glass of champagne. Why did I not think of it before? Lie perfectly still! We will have some champagne in one moment." With the possibilities held out by the idea he turned eagerly from the couch, and crossed the room to the electric bell that was placed beside his desk. But, quick as lightning, the instant his back was turned, Clodagh was on her feet. With a movement so swift and silent that only fear could have inspired it, she slipped to the door, opened it, and was speeding down the long corridor to the stairs. The house was silent. The upper portion seemed darker than when she had arrived. The hall alone lay brightly lighted--a place of hope and promise, figuring the world outside--the good wholesome world lying suddenly within her reach. She ran down the broad stairs, indifferent to the fact that the servant who had admitted her had risen from a seat near the door, and was looking at her in frank surprise. Her ears were strained to catch any sound from upstairs, her eyes were on the door. As she hurried across the hall, the man came forward. "Do you require a cab, madam?" he asked a little doubtfully. "No. Just open the door!" Still with a shade of uncertainty he obeyed, and at the same instant Deerehurst's voice sounded from the head of the stairs. What he said--whether he addressed her or the servant--Clodagh never knew. At the mere sound of his high, thin tones she went blindly forward through the open door. As she passed down the steps, a cab wheeled round the corner of Carlton House Terrace. Instinctively she looked towards it, still animated by the desire for flight. But the next instant she looked away again, realising that it already held a fare, and that there was luggage on the roof.