178 THE SILVER FOX 



acquainted with death, but in the novels 

 she had read episodes of fainting had been 

 freely scattered, and they had left a general 

 idea in her mind. With shaking fingers, 

 shaking from her recent struggle and the 

 impact of this latest shock, she unfastened 

 Hugh's hunting-tie and the neck of his 

 shirt, while her sinking heart told her of 

 her own ignorance and loneliness, and the 

 white face remained unmoved. It seemed 

 to have become smaller, and the temples 

 hollow and blue. She took off the glove 

 from the heavy, listless hand, and tried 

 with her unskilled fingers to feel the pulse. 

 It was just perceptible, and at the contact 

 with that thread of life shut up inside the 

 intolerable mystery of unconsciousness, the 

 fear, the paralyzing helplessness began to 

 give way. Something like the clinking of 

 a tin can came to her ear, and she started 

 up. Two little girls, with red petticoats 

 over their heads, were crossing the field, 

 and Lady Susan ran towards them, calling 

 with what voice she could muster. At 



