She knew that
tragedy was stalking by her side.
"I think, Captain Griffiths," she said gravely, "that you are talking
nonsense, and you are not a very good hand at it. Won't you please
ride on?"
He made no movement to mount his horse. He plodded along the soft
sand by her side--a queer, elongated figure, his gloomy eyes fixed
upon the ground.
"Until this fellow Lessingham came you were never so hard," he
persisted.
She looked at him with genuine curiosity.
"I was never so hard?" she repeated. "Do you imagine that I have
ever for a single moment considered my demeanour towards you--you
of all persons in the world? I simply don't remember when you have
been there and when you haven't. I don't remember the humours in
which I have been when we have conversed. All that you have said
seems to me to be the most arrant nonsense."
He swung himself into the saddle and gathered up the reins.
"Thank you," he said bitterly, "I understand. Only let me tell you
this," he went on, his whip poised in his hand. "You may have
powerful friends who saved your--"
He hesitated so long that she glanced up at him and read all that
he had wished to say in his face.
"My what?" she asked.
His courage failed him.
"Mr. Lessingham," he proceeded, "from arrest. But if he shows his
face here again in Dreymarsh, I sha'n't stop to arrest him.
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