They brought around her pony--a new one--but she did not stir.
"Her mother and sister continued their knitting, asking questions about you now and then, apparently taking no notice of her.

My monologue in praise of you became a triangular discussion; and all the while the pony was cutting up the marl drive with impatience, and Shiela never stirred.
"Then Cecile said to me quite naturally: 'I wish Garry were here.' And, looking up at Shiela, she added: 'Don't you ?' "For a second or two there was absolute silence; and then Shiela said to me: "'Does he know I have been ill ?' "'Of course,' I said, 'and he knows that you are now perfectly well.' "She turned slowly to her mother: 'Am I ?' she asked.
"'What, dear ?' "'Perfectly well.' "'Certainly,' replied her mother, laughing; 'well enough to break your neck on that horrid, jigging, little pony.

If Garry wants to see you alive he'd better come pretty soon--' "'Come _here ?_' "We all looked up at her.

Oh, Garry! For a moment something came into her eyes that I never want to see there again--and, please God, never shall!--a momentary light like a pale afterglow of terror.
"It went as it came; and the colour returned to her face.
"'Is he coming here ?' she asked calmly.
"'Yes,' I made bold to say.
"'When ?' "'In a few days, I hope.' "She said nothing more about you, nor did I.A moment later she sent away her pony and went indoors.
"After luncheon I found her lying in the hammock in the _patio_, eyes closed as though asleep.

She lay there all the afternoon--an unusual thing for her.
"Toward sundown, as I was entering my chair to go back to the hotel, she came out and stood beside the chair looking at me as though she was trying to say something.