CHAPTER III
NIGHT AND MORNING
FENWICK TOWERS was plunged in the deep sleep of the still summer night. Virginia was roused by a growing physical distress from the rest of those thin moments when the night pales before the false dawn.
Her mind awoke refreshed, to hark back on the trail of recent events. Very carefully, step by step, she reviewed the details of the accident, bringing each picture before her eyes by virtue of her too vivid imagination, vigorously active when all else was at a pause. She examined her actions, her emotions, as one would dissect a daisy, willfully slowing the mental process at such points as demanded closer scrutiny. All at the time had been so confused; now at this breathless hour of the night, with mind refreshed and body inert, and not even the ticking of a clock to distract a fancy, it became so startlingly vivid. She saw Giles and herself pressed against the weir, she saw the haggard look of his eyes and heard the brave words, "My fault, … awfully sorry …" She felt his wet kiss on her lips and the warm glow which had defied the chill of the river swept through her veins. This was sweet, and she dwelt upon it, letting her fancy run into devious bypaths. A week before on the tennis court she had felt the awakening of her love, and now it seemed to rise and gather strength and beauty
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