It was Nap, slim, upright, and noiseless, who stepped from behind Mrs.Errol and came to her bedside.
He stooped a little and took her quivering hand, holding it in both his own so that his fingers pressed upon her pulse.
"The mater thought you would like to speak to me," he said.
She looked up at him with eyes of piteous entreaty.

She was long past any thought of expediency so far as he was concerned.

It seemed only natural in her trouble to turn to him for help.

Had he not helped her before?
Besides, she knew that he understood things that she could not utter.
"Oh, Nap," she said admitting him unconsciously in her extremity to an intimacy she would never have dreamed of according him in any less urgent circumstances, "I am greatly troubled about my husband.

You said he would come to me, but--he hasn't come!" "I know he hasn't," Nap said.