"They 're of value to me," I retorted. "They 'll bring me luck." I would of course have given him one, if he had n't been so disagreeable; but now I felt that he should n't have anything of mine if he were starving.
"You are very superstitious, among other childlike qualities," he replied, laughing. So that was what he thought of me, and that was why he had called me "child"! It was all spoiled now, from the beginning; and the guide might as well have found me, as I had said, without quite meaning it at the time.
"If you don't like lucky things, you can throw away my St. Christopher," I said, coldly. "You must have thought it very silly."
"I thought it extremely kind of you to give it, and I 've no intention of throwing it away, or parting with it," said he. "Now, are you ready?"
"Yes," I snapped.
In an instant he had me by the waist between two hands which felt strong as steel buckles, and swung me up like a feather on to the first step of the broken stairs. Then, in another second, he was at my side, supporting me to the top without a word, except a muttered "Don't be childish!" when I would have pushed away his arm.
Strange to say, I forgot Lady Turnour and Sir Samuel until we saw the guide, to whom long ago Mr. Dane had called up a reassuring "Tout va bien!" Then, suddenly, the awful truth sprang into my mind. All this time they had been waiting for me! What would they say? What would they do?
In my horror, I even forgot my righteous anger with the chauffeur. "Oh!" I gasped. "The Turnours!"
