Adrian Ducie’s face had changed. He believed that Floyd-Rosney was capable of any domestic tyranny, but however he moved the responsibility involved in her appeal was great. He could not consign her to whatever fate might menace her. Still, he dared not trust her with money. She might buy poison, she might buy a pistol.
“Colonel, we must do something,” he declared. Then he turned to her. “Mrs. Floyd-Rosney,” he said, “will you permit us, instead of handing you the small amount you mentioned, to buy your ticket for your aunt’s home and see you aboard the train?”
“Oh, if you only would! If you only would! I should bless and thank you to the end of my days!”
Adrian Ducie, with a clearing brow, crossed the room and touched the bell. The summons was answered so immediately as to suggest the prompting of a lurking curiosity.
“Time-table,” said Ducie, and when it was brought he rid himself of the officious bell-boy by commanding: “Taxi, at the ladies’ entrance.”
“We must be starting at once,” he said to Paula. “We have barely time to catch the train. Bring the lady’s suitcase,” to the returning servant; and to the veteran: “Come, Colonel, you will kindly accompany us.”
Then they took their way out into the night.
Paula felt as if she trod on air. It had been so long since she had done aught of her own initiative, so little liberty had she possessed, even in trifles, that it gave her a sense of power to be able to carry any plan of her own device into successful execution. She was suddenly hopeful, calm, confident of her judgment, and restored to her normal aspect and manner. As they stood for a moment on the sidewalk, while the cab came chugging to the curb, she looked as with the eyes of a restored vitality upon the familiar surroundings--the electric street lights, the brilliant, equidistant points far down the perspective, the fantastic illuminated advertisements, the tall canyon of the buildings, the obstructive passing of a clanging, whirring street car, and then she was handed into the vehicle by Adrian Ducie. The next moment the door banged, and she was shut in with the two who she felt were so judiciously befriending her. The taxicab backed out into the street and was off for Union Station at a speed as rapid as a liberal construction of the law would allow.