The Gloved Hand by Burton Egbert Stevenson
page 68 of 314 (21%)
page 68 of 314 (21%)
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from moment to moment it was shaken by a severe nervous tremor.
Godfrey's face was very grave as he looked at her. "Stop stroking her wrists, Swain," he said; "that does no good," and when Swain, without answering or seeming to hear, kept on stroking them, Godfrey drew the hands away, took Swain by the arm, and half-lifted him to his feet. "Listen to me," he said, more sternly, and shook him a little, for Swain's eyes were dull and vacant. "I want you to sit quietly in a chair for a while, till you get your senses back. Miss Vaughan is seriously ill and must not be disturbed in any way. I'm going to get a doctor and a nurse at once; they'll do what needs to be done. Until then, she must be left alone. Understand?" Swain nodded vaguely, and permitted Godfrey to lead him to a chair near the outer door, where he sat down. As his hand fell across the arm of the chair, I could see that a little blood was still oozing from the wound on the wrist. Godfrey saw it, too, and picked up the hand and looked at it. Then he laid it gently down again and glanced at his watch. I followed his example, and saw that it was half-past one. "Have you nerve enough to stay here half an hour by yourself, Lester?" he asked. "By myself?" I echoed, and glanced at the dead man and at the quivering girl. "I've got to run over to my place to get a few things and do some telephoning," he explained. "We must get a doctor up here at once; and then there's the police--I'll try to get Simmonds. Will you stay?" |
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