He was her refuge, her protector.
For a moment of gratitude she even forgot he was mysterious, forgot that
a few hours ago she had been ignorant of his existence. When remembrance
flooded her brain, her only fear was for him. What if the watchers should
still be there when they went out of the house together?
She had turned to go to her room as he suggested when suddenly this
question seemed to be shouted in her ear. Hesitating, she looked back,
her eyes imploring, to meet a smile so confident that it defied fate.
Annesley saw that he understood what was in her mind, and this smile was
the answer. For some reason he thought himself sure that the watchers
were out of the way. The girl could not guess why, unless he had spied on
the taxi from Ruthven Smith's window and saw it go. But she would soon
learn.
Her room was a mere bandbox at the back of the "addition," behind Mrs.
Ellsworth's bedroom and bath; and dashing into it now, the new, vividly
alive Annesley seemed to meet and pity the timid, hopeless girl whose one
safe haven these mean quarters had been. She tried to gather the old self
into her new self, that she might take it with her and comfort it,
rescuing it from the tyrant.
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