“No,” I answered. “Lie quiet and rest. I am trying to think how you are to be got home. Didn’t you say something about a caretaker?”
“Yes; a woman in the little house next door, which really belongs to the studio. Daddy used to leave the key with her at night, so that she could clean up. But I just fetch her in when I want her help. Why do you ask?”
“Do you think she could get a cab for us?”
“I am afraid not. There is no cab-stand anywhere near here. But I think I could walk, unless the fog is too thick. Shall we go and see what it is like?”
“I will go,” said I, rising. But she clung to my arm. “You are not to go alone,” she said, in sudden alarm. “He may be there still.”
HeI thought it best to humour her, and accordingly helped her to rise. For a few moments she seemed rather unstead
