All her physical strength was leaving
her; but still, panting and quivering, she met those fiery, searching
eyes.
Suddenly she knew that her hold upon him was weaker than a child's. She
made a convulsive effort to renew it, failed, and fell forward against
him with a gasping cry.
"Piet!" she whispered, in nerveless entreaty. "Piet!"
He put his arm around her, supporting her; then as he felt her weight
upon him he bent and gathered her bodily into his arms. She sank into
them, more nearly fainting than she had ever been in her life; and,
straightening himself, he turned rigidly, and bore her into the inner
room.
He laid her upon the bed there, but still with shaking, powerless fingers
she tried to cling to him.
"Don't leave me! Don't go!" she besought him.
He took her hands and put them from him. He turned to leave her, but even
then she caught his sleeve.
"Piet, I--I want to--to tell you something," she managed to say.
He wheeled round and bent over her. There was something of violence in
his action.
"Tell me nothing!" he ordered harshly. "Be silent! Anne, do you hear me?
Do you hear me?"
Under the compulsion of his look and voice she submitted at last.
Trembling she hid her face.
And in another moment she heard his step as he went out, heard him close
the door and the sharp click of the key as he turned it in the lock.
CHAPTER XII
For many, many seconds after his departure she lay without breathing,
exactly as he had left her, listening, listening with all the strength
that remained to her for the sounds of conflict.
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