George laughed.

“I am always lucky,” said he.  He thought:  “I wonder whether I am!” He was afraid.

Mrs. Haim was half-way towards the door before any of the men noticed what she was about.  She had risen silently and quickly; she could manoeuvre that stout frame of hers with surprising facility.  There was a strange, silly look on her face as she disappeared, and the face was extremely pale.  Mr. Haim showed alarm, and Mr. Prince concern.  Mr. Haim’s hands clasped the arms of his chair; he bent forward hesitatingly.

“What——?”

Then was heard the noise of a heavy subsidence, apparently on the stairs.  George was out of the room first.  But the other two were instantly upon him.  Mrs. Haim had fallen at the turn of the stairs; her body was distributed along the little half-landing there.

“My God!  She’s fainted!” muttered Mr. Haim.

“We’d better get her into the bedroom,” said Mr. Prince, with awe.

The trouble had come back, but in a far more acute form.  The prostrate and unconscious body, all crooked and heaped in the shadow, intimidated the three men, convicting them of helplessness and lack of ready wit.  George stood aside and let the elder pair pass him.  Mr. Haim hurried up the stairs, bent over his wife, and seized her under the arms.  Mr. Prince took her by the legs.  They could not lift her.  They were both thin little men, quite unaccustomed to physical exertion.  Mrs. Haim lay like a giantess, immovably recumbent between their puny, straining figures.

“Here, let me try,” said George eagerly, springing towards the group.

With natural reluctance Mr. Haim gave way to him.  George stooped and braced himself to the effort.  His face was close to the blanched, blind face of Mrs. Haim.  He thought she looked very young, astonishingly young in comparison with either Haim or Prince.  Her complexion was damaged but not destroyed.  Little fluffy portions of her hair seemed absolutely girlish.  Her body was full of nice curves, which struck George as most enigmatically pathetic.  But indeed the whole of her was pathetic, very touching, very precious and fragile.  Even her large, shiny, shapeless boots and the coarse sateen stuff of her dress affected him.  A lump embarrassed his throat.  He suddenly understood the feelings of Mr. Haim towards her.  She was inexpressibly romantic....  He lifted her torso easily; and pride filled him because he could do easily what others could not do at all.  Her arms trailed limp.  Mr. Haim and Mr. Prince jointly raised her lower limbs.  George staggered backwards up the remainder of the stairs.  As they steered the burden into the bedroom, where a candle was burning, Mrs. Haim opened her eyes and, gazing vacantly at the ceiling, murmured in a weak, tired voice: 

“I’m all right.  It’s nothing.  Please put me down.”

“Yes, yes, my love!” said Mr. Haim, agitated.

They deposited her on the bed.  She sighed; then smiled.  A slight flush showed on her cheek under the light of the candle which Mr. Prince was holding aloft.  Mysterious creature, with the mysterious forces of life flowing and ebbing incomprehensibly within her!  To George she was marvellous, she was beautiful, as she lay defenceless and silently appealing.