"
"Goddesses?"
"Ran into one just now among the trees. 'A woman I forswore, but
thou being a goddess I forswore not thee.' English-speaking
goddess, by George!"
Peter was staring at him incredulously; now he bent forward and
grasped his arm in fingers of steel.
"For Heaven's sake, Stewart, tell me what you mean! Who was in
the garden?"
Stewart was amused and interested. It was not for him to belittle
a situation of his own making, an incident of his own telling.
"I lost my way in your garden, wandered among the trees, broke
through a hedgerow or two, struck a match and consulted the
compass--"
Peter's fingers closed.
"Quick," he said.
Stewart's manner lost its jauntiness.
"There was a girl there," he said shortly. "Couldn't see her. She
spoke English. Said she didn't live here, and broke for the gate
the minute I got to the path."
"You didn't see her?"
"No. Nice voice, though. Young."
The next moment he was alone. Peter in his dressing-gown was
running down the staircase to the lower floor, was shouting to
the Portier to unlock the door, was a madman in everything but
purpose. The Portier let him out and returned to the bedroom.
"The boy above is worse," he said briefly. "A strange doctor has
just come, and but now the Herr Doktor Byrne runs to the drug
store."
The Portier's wife shrugged her shoulders even while tears filled
her eyes.
"What can one expect?" she demanded.
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