Instinctively he grasped him by the arm and supported him.

In the confusion of the moment no one noticed Colville; for all were pressing round the prostrate lady.

And in a moment Colville was himself again, though the ready smile sat oddly on such white lips.
"For God's sake be careful," he said, and turned away, handkerchief in hand.
For the moment the portrait was forgotten until the lady was on her feet again, smiling reassurances and rubbing her elbow.
"It is nothing," she said, "nothing.

My heart--that is all." And she staggered to a chair with the reassuring smile frozen on her face.
Then the portrait was passed from hand to hand in silence.

It was a miniature of Marie Antoinette, painted on ivory, which had turned yellow.