n the lobby he had looked neither
to right nor left. "How do, Ernest!" she heard him greet the amateur
chauffeur-in-chief of the Batchgrew family. His footfalls on the
pavement died away into the general silence of the street. Overhead
she could hear old Batchgrew walking to and fro. Without reflection
she went upstairs and hovered near the door of Mrs. Maldon's bedroom.
She said to herself that she was not eavesdropping. She listened,
while pretending not to listen, but there was no sign of conversation
within the room. And then she very distinctly heard old Batchgrew
exclaim--

"And they go gallivanting off together to the cinema!"

Upon which ensued another silence.

Rachel flushed with shame, fury, and apprehension. She hated
Batchgrew, and Louis, and all gross masculine invaders.

The mysterious silence within the room persisted. And then old
Batchgrew violently opened the door and glared at Rachel. He showed no
surprise at seeing her there on the landing.

"Ye'd better keep an eye on missis," he said gruffly. "She's gone to
sleep seemingly."

And with no other word he departed.

Before the car had given its warning hoot Rachel was at Mrs. Maldon's
side. The old lady lay in all tranquillity on her left arm. She was
indeed asleep, or she was in a stupor, and the peculiar stertorous
noise of her breathing had recommenced.

Rachel's vague dread vanished as she gazed at the worn features, and
gave place to a new and definite fright.

"They have killed her!" she muttered.

And she ran into the next room and called Mrs. Tams.

"Who's below?" asked Mrs. Tarns, as, wide awake, she came out on to
the landing.

"Nobody," said Rachel. "They've gone."

But the doctor was below. Mr. Batchgrew had left the front door open.

"What a good thing!" cried Rachel.

In the bedroom Dr. Yardley, speaking with normal loudness, just as
though Mrs. Maldon had not been present, said to Rachel--

"I expected this this morning. There's nothing to be done. If you
try to give her food she'll only get it into the lung. It's very
improbable that she'll regain consciousness."

"But are you sure, doctor?" Rachel asked.

The doctor answered grimly--

"No, I'm not--I'm never sure. She _may_ recover."

"She's been rather disturbed this afternoon."

The doctor lifted his shoulders.

"That's got nothing to do with it," said he. "As I told you, she's
had an embolus in one artery of the brain. It lessened at first for
a bit--t