She leaned upon the stone balustrade with her eyes shut, wondering whether Harry would outlive this night, whether he was still alive to outlive it.

The very coolness of the stones on which her hands pressed became the bitterest of reproaches.
"Something can now be done." Durrance was coming from the window of the drawing-room, and spoke as he came, to warn her of his approach.

"He was and is my friend; I cannot leave him there.

I shall write to-night to Calder.

Money will not be spared.