"Yes, you can," Regina replied, too much roused to be surprised that the
answer had come in her own language. "Your dress will hold you, even if
you let go with your hands. It is new and it is strong, and it is fairly
caught on the rock. I can see that."
"But I can't hang here until you go and get help," cried the girl, not
much reassured.
"I am going to climb to the top by an easier way and pull you up again,"
Regina answered. "Then we can get down together."
While Regina was speaking she had already begun the ascent, which was
easy enough for her, at the point she had chosen, though many an Alpine
climber might have envied the quickness and sureness of her hold with
feet and hands. She realised that she had forgotten her shoes now, and
was glad that she had taken them off.
"One minute more!" she cried in an encouraging tone, when she had almost
reached the top.
"Quick!" came the imploring answer.
Then Regina was lying flat on the ledge above the girl, stretching both
hands down and catching the slender white wrists with a hold like
steel. And then, feeling herself held and safe to move, the girl looked
up, and Regina was looking into Aurora's face below her. For one instant
the two did not recognise each other, for they had only seen each other
once, by night, under the portico of the Theatre Francais. But an
instant later a flush of anger rose to Aurora's forehead, and the dark
woman turned pale, and her brows were suddenly level and stern.
Pages:
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210