With a cry he sprang up and, carrying her in his arms,
rushed out into the road.
CHAPTER III
AN UNPLEASANT MEETING
It was a quarter past eleven and the theatres were disgorging
their usual nightly crowds. The most human thoroughfare in any
of the world's great cities was at its best and brightest.
Everywhere commissionaires were blowing their whistles, the
streets were thronged with slowly-moving vehicles, the pavements
were stirring with life. The little crowd which had gathered in
front of the chemist's shop was swept away. After all, none of
them knew exactly what they had been waiting for. There was a
rumor that a woman had fainted or had met with an accident.
Certainly she had been carried into the shop and into the inner
room, the door of which was still closed. A few passers-by had
gathered together and stared and waited for a few minutes, but
had finally lost interest and melted away. A human thoroughfare,
this, indeed, one of the pulses of the great city beating time
night and day to the tragedies of life. The chemist's assistant,
with impassive features, was serving a couple of casual customers
from behind the counter. Only a few yards away, beyond the
closed door, the chemist himself and a hastily summoned doctor
fought with Death for the body of the girl who lay upon the
floor, faint moans coming every now and then from her blue lips.
Tavernake, whose forced inaction during that terrible struggle
had become a burden to him, slipped softly from the room as soon
as the doctor had whispered that the acute crisis was over, and
passed through the shop out into the street, a solemn, dazed
figure among the light-hearted crowd.
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