And she answered him quickly and passionately, as though indeed there were something within that spoke for her, "I would do anything for you, Nap." It was drawing near to sunset when at last the end of the journey came in sight. Anne perceived the car waiting in the distance close to the spot where Nap had descended upon her that morning. She breathed a sigh of thankfulness. "I scarcely thought he would have waited for you so long," she said. "He daren't do otherwise," said Nap, and she caught a faint echo of arrogance in the words. And then of his own free will he paused and faced her. "You are coming with me," he said. She shook her head. "No, Nap." His eyes blazed redly. His disfigured face was suddenly devilish. "You are mad if you go back," he said. But she shook her head again. "No, I know what I am doing. And I am going back now. But I will come to Baronmead in the morning." He looked at her. "Are you--tired of life?" he asked abruptly. She smiled--a piteous smile. "Very, very tired!" she said. "But you needn't be afraid of that. He will not touch me. He will not even see me to-night." Then, as he still looked combative, "Oh, please, leave this matter to my judgment! I know exactly what I am doing. Believe me, I am in no danger." He gave in, seeing that she was not to be moved from her purpose. They went a few yards farther; then, "In Heaven's name--come early to Baronmead," he said jerkily. "I shall have no peace till you come." "I will," she promised. The chauffeur came to meet them with clumsy solicitude as they neared the car, but Nap kept him at a distance. "Don't touch me! I've had a bad fall skiing. It's torn me to ribbons. Just open the door. Lady Carfax will do the rest!" And as the man turned to obey, "Not a very likely story, but it will serve our turn." "Thank you," she said very earnestly. He did not look at her again. She had a feeling that he kept his eyes from her by a deliberate effort of the will. Silently she helped him into the car, saw him sink back with her muff still supporting his injured arm, whispered a low "Good-bye!" and turned to the waiting chauffeur. "Drive him quickly home," she said. "And then go for a doctor." Not till the car was out of sight did she realise that her knees were shaking and refusing to support her. She tottered to a gate by the roadside, and there, clinging weakly with her head bowed upon her arms, she remained for a very long time. CHAPTER XX THE VISION It was growing dusk when Anne at length came to the Manor. She was utterly weary and faint from lack of food. The servant who admitted her looked at her strangely, as if half afraid. "Please have tea taken to my sitting-room," she said quietly, as she passed him. And with that she went straight to her room. Standing before a mirror to remove her hat, she caught sight of something that seemed to stab her heart. The cream cloth coat she wore was all spattered with blood.