Constance rose, giddy and fainting, not knowing whether to go or stay. . . .
"Constance! Constance!" cried Adeline, calling her back, holding her in her arms.
"Mamma! Mamma! . . . Aunt Constance! Aunt Constance!"
Constance rose to her feet, made a vast effort to overcome that dizzy faintness . . . and, now that the body of the small, fair-haired woman lay moaning upon the body of the dead man, she opened the door. . . . Was every light in the house full on? Why were the maids sobbing like that? Was it real then, was it real? . . . Was this Marietje, clasping her so convulsively, trembling in her little nightgown? . . . Were these Guy and Alex, sleepy still their gentle eyes, cheeky their little mouths? . . . Were these Gerdy—oh, so frightened!—and little Constant? . . .
"Aunt Constance, Aunt Constance!"
She overcame her dizziness, she did not faint:
"Darlings, my darlings, hush! . . . Hush! . . ."
And she led them back to their bedroom. . . . What could she do but embrace them, but press them to her? . . .
"Darlings, my darlings! . . ."
The wail of despair rang out once more. . . . Oh, she must go back to that poor woman! Oh, she had not arms enough, not lives enough! . . . Oh, she must multiply her life tenfold! . . .
