Harry wheeled round. He felt that the bullet which had gone through his back had lodged in Joan's heart. He opened his mouth to speak but no word came. And Tootles spoke again, even more clearly and distinctly. She intended that her voice should travel. "My husband won't be back for several days," she said, "but I shall be very glad to tell him that you called if you will leave your name." "It--it doesn't matter," said Harry, stammering. After an irresolute, unhappy pause, he turned to go-- He went straight to Joan. She was standing with her eyes shut and both hands on her heart, as white as a white rose. She looked like a young slim tree that had been struck by lightning. "Joan," he said, "Joan," and touched her arm. There was no answer. "Joan," he said, "Joany." And with a little sob she tottered forward. He caught her, blazing with anger that she had been so hurt, inarticulate with indignation and a huge sympathy, and with the one strong desire to get her away from that place, picked her up in his arms,--a dead delicious weight,--and carried her down the incline of sand and undergrowth to his car, put her in ever so gently, got in himself, backed the machine out, turned it and drove away. And Tootles, breathing hard and shaking, stood on the edge of the stoop, and with tears streaming down her face, watched the car become a speck and disappear. XI The sun had gone down, and the last of its lingering glory had died before the yawl managed to cajole her way back to her mooring. Dinner was ready by the time the hungry threesome, laughing and talking, arrived at the cottage. Howard, spoiling for a cocktail, made for the small square dining-room, and Irene, waving her hand to Tootles, cried out, "Cheero, dearie, you missed a speedy trip, I don't think," and took her into the house to tidy up in the one bathroom. Martin drew up short on the edge of the stoop, listened and looked about, holding his breath. It was most odd, but--there was something in the still air that had the sense of Joan in it. After a moment, during which his very soul asked for a sight of her, he stumped into the living room and rang the bell impatiently. The imperturbable Judson appeared at once, his eyebrows slightly raised. "Has any one been here while I've been away?" asked Martin. "No, sir. No one except Miss Capper, who's been reading on the stoop." "You're quite sure?" "You never can be quite sure about anything in this life, sir, but I saw no one."