A car was tearing towards me. I had just time
to see the woman as she passed and note that she was old. She
caught a glimpse of my face, and with a cry ran into the
centre of the street. I never thought she was Maraquito, and
could not understand why she acted as she did. I cried out in
alarm, and ran forward to drag her back from before the
approaching motor. But it was too late, the car went over her
and she shrieked when crushed under the wheels. The
impediment made the car swerve and it ran into a lamp-post.
The occupants were thrown out. I fancy someone else is hurt
also. Maraquito is dead. I heard a policeman say so. I then
saw a waiter gesticulating at the door of the hotel, and
fancied something was wrong; I ran along and up the stairs.
But I never expected to find you here, Juliet, much less to
witness the death of that wretched woman."
"I am sorry," faltered Juliet, as she sat with his arms round
her, "I don't know why she wanted to throw vitriol at me. She
failed to hurt me, and I think she has killed Lord Caranby,
and--"
"I must see to my uncle," said Mallow, rising, "stay here,
Juliet."
"No! no," she said, clinging to him, "let me go home. Get a
cab. I dare not stop. That terrible woman--"
"She will never hurt you again. She is dead."
"I wish to go home--I wish to go home."
Mallow saw that the poor girl was quite ill with fright; and
small wonder, considering the catastrophe of the last half
hour.
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