go to bed, and that you and I, Mr. Hersheimmer, should share the vigil."
Tuppence was about to protest, but happening to glance at the bed she saw Mrs. Vandemeyer, her eyes half-open, with such an expression of mingled fear and malevolence on her face that it quite froze the words on her lips.
For a moment she wondered whether the faint and the heart attack had been a gigantic sham, but remembering the deadly pallor she could hardly credit the supposition. As she looked the expression disappeared as by magic, and Mrs. Vandemeyer lay inert and motionless as before. For a moment the girl fancied she must have dreamt it. But she determined nevertheless to be on the alert.
"Well," said Julius, "I guess we'd better make a move out of here any way."
The others fell in with his suggestion. Sir James again felt Mrs. Vandemeyer's pulse.
"Perfectly satisfactory," he said in a low voice to Tuppence. "She'll be absolutely all right after a night's rest."
The girl hesitated a moment by the bed. The intensity of the expression she had surprised had impressed her powerfully. Mrs. Vandemeyer lifted her lids. She seemed to be struggling to speak. Tuppence bent over her.
"Don't—leave" she seemed unable to proceed, murmuring something that sounded like "sleepy." Then she tried again.
Tuppence bent lower still. It was only a breath.
