"Help me--to sit up!" he commanded.
They did their best, he struggling with piteously feeble efforts to
help himself. Finally he managed to drag himself to a leaning position
on one elbow, though for several seconds thereafter his gasping was
terrible to hear.
Avery saw his lips move several times before any sound came from them. At
length, "Send--that boy--away!" he gasped out.
Avery and Ronald looked at each other, and the boy got to his feet with
an undecided air.
"Do you hear? Go!" rapped out Sir Beverley.
"Shall I, Avery?" whispered Ronald.
She nodded. "Yes, just a little way! I'll call you if I want you."
And half-reluctantly Ronald obeyed.
"Has he gone?" asked Sir Beverley.
"Yes." Avery remained on her knees beside him. He looked as if he might
collapse at any moment.
For awhile he lay struggling for breath with his face towards the ground;
then very suddenly his strength seemed to return. He raised his head and
regarded her piercingly.
"You," he said curtly, "are the young woman who refused to marry my
grandson."
The words were so totally unexpected that Avery literally gasped with
astonishment. To be taken to task on this subject was an ordeal for which
she was wholly unprepared.
"Well?" he said irritably. "That is so, I believe? You did refuse to
marry him?"
"Yes," Avery admitted, feeling the hot colour flood her face under the
merciless scrutiny of the stone-grey eyes.
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