She stood rigid, unprotesting, white as death.
The knocking was renewed with fevered energy as Merryon turned quietly to obey the summons.

He closed the door upon his wife and went down the passage.
There was no haste in his movements as he slipped back the bolts, rather the studied deliberation of purpose of a man armed against all emergency.

But the door burst inwards against him the moment he opened it, and one of his subalterns, young Harley, almost fell into his arms.
Merryon steadied him with the utmost composure.

"Halloa, Harley! You, is it?
What's all this noise about ?" The boy pulled himself together with an effort.

He was white to the lips.
"There's cholera broken out," he said.