"Let me
lift you. There! How did it happen?"
"My ankle turned," she replied, rising with effort and standing
unsteadily, despite his support.
"Does it pain you?" he queried with polite solicitude, looking down at
the dainty low-cut gray shoe. "Bear your weight on it."
She essayed the experiment. "No," she barely whispered; "it is all
right."
He fixed upon her a look of questioning amazement, as she still held
trembling to his arm. "What is the matter, then?"
"There is somebody in the hotel."
He gave a hasty glance upward from under the stiff brim of his hat.
"Hardly likely--but I'll examine and see."
He was about to start off when she tightened her clutch on his arm.
"No, no," she pleaded. "Don't leave me! I don't know why--but I can't
stand. I can't walk."
"Did you really hear something?" he asked sceptically.
The light note of satire stung her pride. "Oh, I _saw_ them, and they saw
me," she protested. "I saw three men, and they all ran as I came into the
dining-room.
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