He felt the car
slacken speed, he looked ahead for the swift beckoning of the veil,
and then he saw that where, in the delicate distance, the other
motor had sped its way, it now stood inactive in the road before
them, and they were actually upon it. The four guards in the motor
were standing erect with uplifted faces, their gold uniforms shining
like armour. But this was not all. There, in the highway beside the
car, the mist of her veil like a halo about her, Olivia stood alone.
St. George did not reckon what they meant to do. He dropped over the
side of the tonneau and ran to her. He stood before her, and all the
joy that he had ever known was transcended as she turned toward
him. She threw out her hands with a little cry--was it gladness, or
relief, or beseeching? He could not be certain that there was even
recognition in her eyes before she tottered and swayed, and he
caught her unconscious form in his arms. As he lifted her he looked
with apprehension toward the car that held the guards. To his
bewilderment there was no car there.
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