She took one step toward the door, balancing herself with outstretched hands.
"I am nearly there," she said.
Then she groped blindly.
"Oh, I cannot see! I cannot see! Where am I ?" she cried.
When Gregory reached her she had fallen with her face against the sharp foot of the wardrobe and cut her forehead.

Very tenderly he raised the little crushed heap of muslin and ribbons, and laid it on the bed.

Doss climbed up, and sat looking down at it.

Very softly Gregory's hands disrobed her.
"You will be stronger tomorrow, and then we shall try again," he said, but she neither looked at him nor stirred.
When he had undressed her, and laid her in bed, Doss stretched himself across her feet and lay whining softly.
So she lay all that morning, and all that afternoon.
Again and again Gregory crept close to the bedside and looked at her; but she did not speak to him.

Was it stupor or was it sleep that shone under those half-closed eyelids.