He bent over me and I tried to smile.

He stood silent, his hand on me, while Diane Sampson told swiftly, brokenly, what had happened.
How she told it! I tried to whisper a protest.

To any one on earth except Steele I might have wished to appear a hero.

Still, at that moment I had more dread of him than any other feeling.

She finished the story with her head on his shoulder, with tears that certainly were in part for me.