There was a couple coming up the path; presently they were in my view,
and I saw to my grief and amazement that the man was Richard Dawson--I
had known it, indeed, from the first--and the girl who walked with him
was Nora Brady, the pretty little girl who had interested me at Araglin
Creamery. Richard Dawson walked with his arm about her. She was looking
up at him as though she adored him. Just as they passed he bent his head
and kissed her and again I heard him laugh. The laugh made me hate him,
if possible, more than ever.
I guessed that they had come in by the postern gate and would return
that way, and I did not dare to stir till they had come back again. They
did not, however, take so long. They came back again very soon,
whispering as they had gone; and as soon as I judged it safe I left the
glade and hurried home as fast as ever I could resolving to have the
postern gate bolted so that Richard Dawson should not dare to come into
our woods, and resolving also to see and speak with Nora Brady as soon
as ever I had a chance. Perhaps, indeed, she would not listen to me, but
I could only do my best.
As it happened, my opportunity came sooner than I had expected; for it
was only next day that I met her coming with a basket of eggs to the
Abbey.
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