Then he searched his own pockets in despair--remembering that he had wrapped his handkerchief round Eleanor's precious terracottas just before they started, that the little parcel was on the top of the basket he had given to Miss Foster, and that both were probably waiting with the tea-things below.
Eleanor came up.
'Why did we leave her ?' cried Manisty, turning vehemently upon his cousin--'That was _not_ Reggie and his party! What a horrible mistake! She has been attacked by some of these peasant brutes.

Just look at this bleeding!' Something in his voice roused a generous discomfort in Lucy even through her faintness.
'It is nothing,' she said.

'How could you help it?
It is so silly!--I am so strong--and yet any cut, or prick even, makes me feel faint.

If only we could make it stop--I should be all right.' Eleanor stooped and looked at the wound, so far as the light would serve, touching the wrist with her ice-cold fingers.

Manisty watched her anxiously.