Beatrice was not there. She sprang to the blind
and drew it, letting in such light as there was, and by it searched the
room. She spoke: "Beatrice, where are you?"
No answer.
"Ah--h," said Elizabeth aloud; "I understand. At last--at last!"
What should see do? Should she go and call her father and put them to
an open shame? No. Beatrice must come back some time. The knowledge was
enough; she wanted the knowledge to use if necessary. She did not wish
to ruin her sister unless in self-defence, or rather, for the cause of
self-advancement. Still less did she wish to injure Geoffrey, against
whom she had no grudge. So she peeped along the passage, then returning,
crept back to her bed like a snake into a hole and watched.
Mr. Granger, hearing the crash, thought that the front door had blown
open. Rising, he lit a candle and went to see.
But of all this Geoffrey knew nothing, and Beatrice naturally less than
nothing.
She lay senseless in his arms, her head rested on his shoulder, her
heavy hair streamed down his side almost to his knee. He lifted her,
touched her on the forehead with his lips and laid her on the bed.
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