"Tony!... Tony!" Her voice rose to a scream, then cracked on a hoarse note
of sudden, desperate relief.

To her left the ground fell away abruptly in a precipitous ravine, and,
rising slowly above the lip of the chasm, she could discern Tony's head and
shoulders. Instantly her mind leapt to what had happened. Failing to find a
gentian in his search over safe ground, he must have caught sight of a late
blossom growing in some cranny of the rock face below, and, recklessly
regardless of the danger, he had climbed down to secure it.

The mere thought of the risk he had incurred--was still incurring--sent
a shiver through her. Her first impulse was to rush towards him. Then,
realising that any movement of hers might distract his attention and so
add illimitably to his danger, she forced herself by an almost superhuman
effort to remain where she was. Motionless, with straining eyes, she
watched while he slowly edged himself up. That his foothold was precarious
was evident from the careful precision of his movements, so unlike Tony's
usual nimbleness.

Now his arm was above the edge ... both arms ... he seemed to be resting
a moment, leaning on his chest an instant before making another effort.
Should she go to him? Her arms hung stiffly at her sides, her hands opening
and shutting in an agony of indecision.

Tony was moving once more, and this time he hoisted himself up so that he
succeeded in getting one knee over the top. Another moment and he would be
safe.... Then, without a cry, he suddenly toppled backwards and disappeared
from view, and Ann could see only the jagged edge of the ravine, stark
against the sky-line.