And it seemed to me that she became a trifle less sorrowful until I mentioned the fountain, whose waters had run from its cracked basin to form a little stream that some gardener had sent wandering among the trees to refresh them, and there to end by soaking the ground; but then a darkness that was nowhere in the room but on Dorcas’s face came to settle there like one of those strange things that had pursued Jonas and me through the cedars. Then she would no longer look at me, and after a time she truly slept.

I got up as silently as I could, unbolted the door, and went down the crooked stair. The hostess was still working in the common room below, but the patrons who had been there were gone. I explained to her that the woman I had brought was ill, paid the rent of the room for several days, and promising to return and take care of any other expenses, asked her to look in on her from time to time, and to feed her if she would eat.

“Ah, it will be a blessing to us to have someone sleeping in the room,” the hostess said. “But if your darling’s sick, is the Duck’s Nest the best place you can find for her? Can’t you take her home?”

“I’m afraid living in my house is what has made her ill. At least, I don’t want to risk the chance that returning there will make her worse.”

“Poor darling!” The hostess shook her head. “So pretty too, and doesn’t look more than a child. How old is she?”

I told her I did not know.

“Well, I’ll have a visit with her and give her some soup when she’s ready for it.” She looked at me as if to say that the time would come soon enough once I was away. “But I want you to know that I won’t hold her a prisoner for you. If she wants to leave, she’ll be free to go.”