Chapter twenty-five
WilmingtonDoctor Stephens was leaving Marie’s bedroom when Denning took the wide circular staircase to the upper floor of the Keating home.
“How is she?” Denning asked, hat in hand.
The doctor wiped his forehead before he spoke. “She’s awake. Right off, I suspected a concussion, I did, but not now. However, she will have a nasty bump on her head for a spell. She’s still in something of a state of shock.”
“No wonder. The cuts to her chest, were they deep?”
“They’ve been taken care of and washed, sir. She’s bandaged. Nothing serious there.” He sighed, resting his hand on Denning’s shoulder. “My friend, if you had not come to her aid, it’s no telling what might have happened.”
“May I see her?”
“Yes. She has been asking for you. Keep your visit short.”
“Of course.”
