"I did everything I could," Bellamy continued. "I fetched her at once and sent her back to her house with a hospital nurse and some one to look after her. The wound wasn't serious, but the fellow must have been a brute indeed to have lifted his hand against such a child. I wonder whether he'll get away.""I should doubt it," Laverick remarked. "He hasn't the nerve.
He'll probably get drunk and blow his brains out. He's a broken-spirited cur, after all.""You'll have some lunch?" Bellamy asked.
Laverick shook his head.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to go on and see Miss Leneveu.""Put me down at the club, then, and take my car on, if you will."Laverick walked up and down the pavement outside Zoe's little house for nearly half-an-hour. He had found the door closed and locked, and a neighbor had informed him that Miss Leneveu had gone out in a cab with the nurse, some time ago, and had not returned. Laverick sent Bellamy's car back and waited. Presently a four-wheel cab came round the corner and stopped in front of her house. Laverick opened the door and helped Zoe out. She was as white as death, and the nurse who was with her was looking anxious.
"You are safe, then?" she murmured, holding out her hands.
"Quite," he answered. "You dear little girl!"Zoe had fainted, however, and Laverick hurried out for the doctor.
Curiously enough, it was the same man who only a week or so ago had come to see Arthur Morrison.
"She has had a bad scalp wound," he declared, "and her nervous system is very much run down. There is nothing serious. She seems to have just escaped concussion. The nurse had better stay with her for another day, at any rate.""You are sure that it isn't serious?" Laverick asked eagerly.
"Not in the least," the doctor answered dryly. "I see worse wounds every day of my life. I'll come again to-morrow, if you like, but it really isn't necessary with the nurse on the spot."His natural pessimism was for a moment lightened by the fee which Laverick pressed upon him, and he departed with a few more encouraging words. Laverick stayed and talked for a short time with the nurse.
"She has gone off to sleep now, sir," the latter announced. "There isn't anything to worry about. She seems as though she had been having a hard time, though. There was scarcely a thing in the house but half a packet of tea - and these."She held up a packet of pawn tickets.
"I found these in a drawer when I came," she said. "I had to look round, because there was no money and nothing whatever in the house."Laverick was suddenly conscious of an absurd mistiness before his eyes.
"Poor little woman!" he murmured. "I think she'd sooner have starved than ask for help."The nurse smiled.
"I thought at first that she was rather a vain young lady," she remarked. "An empty larder and a pile of pawn tickets, and a new hat with a receipted bill for thirty shillings," she added, pointing to the sofa.
Laverick placed some notes in her hands.
"Please keep these," he begged, "and see that she has everything she wants. I shall be here again later in the day. There is not the slightest need for all this. She will be quite well off for the rest of her life. Will you try and engage some one for a day or two to come in until she is able to be moved?""I'll look after her," the nurse promised.
Laverick went reluctantly away. The events of the last few days were becoming more and more like a dream to him. He went to his club almost from habit. Presently the excitement which all London seemed to be sharing drove his own personal feelings a little into the background. The air was full of rumors. The Prime Minister and the Foreign Secretary were spoken of as one speaks of heroes. Nothing was definitely known, but there was a splendid feeling of confidence that for once in her history England was preparing to justify her existence as a great Power.
