She had certainly not broken her neck. She looked at him with eyes
that seemed not to take him in; and though not particularly large in
general they appeared so now. She pressed her side and rubbed her
arm, as if conscious of pain; then stood up, averting her face, in
evident distress at his gaze.
"Thank God--you are not killed! Though it's not for want of
trying--not much hurt I hope?"
Her fall, in fact, had not been a serious one, probably owing to the
lowness of the old rooms and to the high level of the ground without.
Beyond a scraped elbow and a blow in the side she had apparently
incurred little harm.
"I was asleep, I think!" she began, her pale face still turned away
from him. "And something frightened me--a terrible dream--I thought
I saw you--" The actual circumstances seemed to come back to her,
and she was silent.
Her cloak was hanging at the back of the door, and the wretched
Phillotson flung it round her. "Shall I help you upstairs?" he asked
drearily; for the significance of all this sickened him of himself
and of everything.
"No thank you, Richard. I am very little hurt. I can walk."
"You ought to lock your door," he mechanically said, as if lecturing
in school. "Then no one could intrude even by accident."
"I have tried--it won't lock. All the doors are out of order."
The aspect of things was not improved by her admission. She ascended
the staircase slowly, the waving light of the candle shining on her.
Phillotson did not approach her, or attempt to ascend himself till he
heard her enter her room. Then he fastened up the front door, and
returning, sat down on the lower stairs, holding the newel with one
hand, and bowing his face into the other. Thus he remained for a
long long time--a pitiable object enough to one who had seen him;
till, raising his head and sighing a sigh which seemed to say that
the business of his life must be carried on, whether he had a wife or
no, he took the candle and went upstairs to his lonely room on the
other side of the landing.
No further incident touching the matter between them occurred till
the following evening, when, immediately school was over, Phillotson
walked out of Shaston, saying he required no tea, and not informing
Sue where he was going. He descended from the town level by a steep
road in a north-westerly direction, and continued to move downwards
till the soil changed from its white dryness to a tough brown clay.
He was now on the low alluvial beds