SANCTUARY
consciousness above a sheer hallucinating depth into which she dared not look. But the depth drew her, and she plunged one terrified glance into it.
"But the child—the child was Arthur's?"
Peyton shrugged his shoulders. "There again—how can we tell? Why, I don't suppose the woman herself—I wish to heaven your father were here to explain!"
She rose and crossed over to him, laying her hands on his shoulders with a gesture almost maternal.
"Don't let us talk of it," she said. "You did all you could. Think what a comfort you were to poor Arthur."
He let her hands lie where she had placed them, without response or resistance.
"I tried—I tried hard to keep him straight!"
"We all know that—every one knows it. And we know how grateful he was—
[ 19 ]
