CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHTMiss Silver rose quietly to her feet and passed into the chapel. Ellie did not move. It would have been hard to say that she breathed. She seemed frozen. It wasn’t until Miss Silver spoke her name and touched her gently on the shoulder that she turned her head. For the moment her eyes were blank and unaware. They looked at Miss Silver as though they did not see her. Then she drew another of those painful breaths and leaned back against the chair.
Miss Silver sat down beside her.
“You are ill, my dear.”
There was a faint movement of the head, a faint sighing “No——”
“Then you are in trouble.”
Consciousness came back to Ellie’s eyes. The voice which spoke to her was kind—not anxious like Mary’s or stern like John Lenton’s. It had a comforting warmth, a supporting auth
