The rain dripped heavily from the eaves, and the cool breath of the freshened air was sweet and stimulating.

She was immensely relieved to have him out of the house, but he lingered on the veranda, staring helplessly about.
"I shall go home," he said, but so unsteadily that she looked at him quickly.

He carried the cloak flung over his shoulder and in readjusting it dropped it to the floor, and she saw in the light of the door lamps that his arm hung limp at his side and the gray cloth of his sleeve was heavy and dark with blood.

With a quick gesture she stooped and picked up the cloak.
"Come! Come! This is all very dreadful--you must go to a physician at once." "My man and horse are waiting for me; the injury is nothing." But she threw the cloak over his shoulders and led the way, across the veranda, and out upon the walk.
"I do not need the doctor--not now.

My man will care for me." He started through the dark toward the outer wall, as though confused, and she went before him toward the side entrance.