Red Stefan
“It was pine-wood, for a faint aromatic scent still came from it and one of her hands was a little sticky as if it had touched resin. It was odd that she should notice things like that. She was conscious of the piny smell, and of her sticky fingers. But for a moment she could not find any voice with which to answer Stephen, nor did it seem as if she could get upon her feet.
He called again, this time urgently.
“Elizabeth—are you all right? Where are you?”
She drew in a long breath. Surely with a...s much breath as that she should be able at least to say his name. She said it in a wavering whisper which hardly carried a yard, yet through the closed door Stephen heard. It may be said that it took a most horrible load off his mind. If Elizabeth had not done as he told her—if she had remained in the outer room—if the horse had kicked her … All these suppositions were dispersed by that very faint, wavering “Stephen.”
Grischa was quiet now, though still sweating and trembling. Stephen stood gentling him.MoreLess
He called again, this time urgently.
“Elizabeth—are you all right? Where are you?”
She drew in a long breath. Surely with a...s much breath as that she should be able at least to say his name. She said it in a wavering whisper which hardly carried a yard, yet through the closed door Stephen heard. It may be said that it took a most horrible load off his mind. If Elizabeth had not done as he told her—if she had remained in the outer room—if the horse had kicked her … All these suppositions were dispersed by that very faint, wavering “Stephen.”
Grischa was quiet now, though still sweating and trembling. Stephen stood gentling him.MoreLess
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