Laverick's eyes were full of sympathy. One could see that the scene of last night had risen up again before her eyes. She was shrinking back, and the terror was upon her once more. He moved over to her side, and with an impulse which, when he thought of it afterwards, amazed him, laid his hand gently upon her shoulder.
"Don't worry yourself thinking about it," he said. "I will talk to your brother. We did have words, I'll admit, last night, but there wasn't the slightest reason why it should have upset him in this way. Things in the city were shocking yesterday, but they have improved a great deal to-day. Let me go upstairs and I'll try and pump some courage into him."
"You are so kind," she murmured, suddenly dropping her hands from before her face and looking up at him with shining eyes, "so very kind. Will you come, then?"
She rose and he followed her out of the room, up the stairs, and into a tiny bedroom. Laverick had no time to look around, but it seemed to him, notwithstanding the cheap white furniture and very ordinary appointments, that the same note of dainty femininity pervaded this little apartment as the one below.
"It is my room," she said shyly. "There is no other properly furnished, and I thought that he might sleep upon the bed."
"Perhaps he is asleep now," Laverick whispered.
Even as he spoke, the dark figure stretched upon the sheets sprang into a sitting posture. Laverick was conscious of a distinct shock. It was Morrison, still wearing the clothes in which he had left the office, his collar crushed out of all shape, his tie vanished. His black hair, usually so shiny and perfectly arranged, was all disordered. Out of his staring eyes flashed an expression which one sees seldom in life,--an expression of real and mortal terror.
"Who is it?" he cried out, and even his voice was unrecognizable. "Who is that? What do you want?"
"It is I--Laverick," Laverick answered. "What on earth is the matter with you, man?"
Morrison drew a quick breath. Some part of the terror seemed to leave his face, but he was still an alarming-looking object. Laverick quietly opened the door and laid his hand upon the girl's shoulder.
"Will you leave us alone?" he asked. "I will come and talk to you afterwards, if I may."
She nodded understandingly, and passed out. Laverick closed the door and came up to the bedside.
"What in the name of thunder has come over you, Morrison?" he said. "Are you ill, or what is it?"