"
Alcott was silent a moment--hesitating in the dark.
"You will make those arrangements immediately?"
"Of course."
"If she dies? She may die."
"I would do nothing brutal--but--She came to make a bargain with me."
"Yes--but if she dies--might you not have been glad to say, 'I forgive'?"
The shy, clumsy man was shaken as he spoke, with the passion of his own
faith. The darkness concealed it, as it concealed its effect on
Buntingford. Buntingford made no direct reply, and presently they parted,
Alcott engaging to send a messenger over to Beechmark early, with a
report of the patient's condition, before Buntingford and Dr. Ramsay
started for London. Buntingford walked on. And presently in the dim
moonlight ahead he perceived Geoffrey French.
The young man approached him timidly, almost expecting to be denounced as
an intruder. Instead, Buntingford put an arm through his, and leaned upon
him, at first in a pathetic silence that Geoffrey did not dare to break.
Then gradually the story was told again, as much of it as was necessary,
as much as Philip could bear.
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