CHAPTER FIFTYI was across the room before his name had moved from my brain to my lips, and his arm was around me, wonderfully hard and real and strong, and I was clutching him as if I could never bear to let him go. For a moment all I felt was a relief so powerful that everything else was blotted out. I was dizzy with it; and then I realized that he was only holding me with one arm, and that the other was just hanging at his side. His sleeve was stained dark, even through the mud and dirt.
“Lajos?” I said fearfully.
“Scratches,” he said, but mechanically, for over my head he had seen Elisabeth; but he did not release me, only moved with me towards her. “Madame,” he said civilly.
“I suppose it is a silly question,” Elisabeth drawled, “but what is wrong with the door?”
“Nothing — at leas
