"I did not, Lady Alice."

She burst into tears, and fell back on the couch, with her face turned
away. Then, anger reviving, she went on through her sobs:--

"Why did you not leave me where I fell? You had done enough to hurt me
without bringing me here."

And again she fell a-weeping.

Now I found words.

"Lady Alice," I said, "how could I leave you lying in the moonlight?
Before the sun rose, the terrible moon might have distorted your
beautiful face."

"Be silent, sir. What have you to do with my face?"

"And the wind, Lady Alice, was blowing through the corridor windows,
keen and cold as the moonlight. How could I leave you?"

"You could have called for help."

"Forgive me, Lady Alice, if I erred in thinking you would rather command
the silence of a gentleman to whom an accident had revealed your secret,
than be exposed to the domestics who would have gathered round us."

Again she half raised herself, and again her eyes flashed.