Roger was standing up when she returned, his back to the burning logs, watching the doorway through which she must enter, his eyes still shining with that strange soft brilliance, his color still deep and glowing.
She crossed the room to him quickly.
'It was a call from Terry,' she said.
'From Terry?'
'There has been an accident.'
The brilliance of his eyes changed instantly to piercing sharpness. 'An accident to whom?'
'To Felix,' Cicely replied; then briefly, baldly, 'He was killed by a railroad train late yesterday afternoon,' she announced.
'Killed? Where? How?'
'Sit down and I'll tell you.'
'No thanks. I'll stand. Was Sheilah with him? Was Sheilah hurt?'
Cicely smiled and gave a tiny shrug. 'No. Sheilah wasn't hurt. Sheilah's all right, Roger. Sheilah herself spoke to me on the telephone.'
'Tell me what happened.'
'I will.'
