At this, opening her eyes, Mrs. Gereth sprang straight up. "Get him away from her!"
Fleda marvelled: her companion had in an instant become young again. "Away from Mona? How in the world—?"
"By not looking like a fool!" cried Mrs. Gereth very sharply. She kissed her, however, on the spot, to make up for this roughness, and with an officious hand took off the hat which, on coming into the house, our young lady had not removed. She applied a friendly touch to the girl's hair and gave a business-like pull to her jacket. "I say don't look like an idiot, because you happen not to be one, not the least bit. I'm' idiotic; I've been so, I've just discovered, ever since our first days together. I've been a precious donkey; but that's another affair."
Fleda, as if she humbly assented, went through no form of controverting this; she simply stood passive to her companion's sudden refreshment of the charms of her person. "How can I get him away from her?" she presently demanded.
"By letting yourself go."
"By letting myself go?" She spoke mechanically, still more like an idiot, and felt as if her face flamed out the insincerity of her question. It was vividly back again, the vision of the real way to act on Mrs. Gereth. This lady's movements were now rapid; she turned off from her as quickly as she had seized her, and Fleda sat down to steady herself for full responsibility.
