"That is the trouble, I am afraid,--that
girl Lily, and her problem! If we could understand all of that,
perhaps we could see the reason for this anarchy!"
The group broke apart, as the exigencies of the road traveled
required. Now and again some conversation passed between the
occupants of the carriage and the horsemen who loosely grouped
about it as they advanced. The great coach swayed its way on up
through the woods into the hills, over a road never too good and
now worse than usual. They had thirty miles or more to drive, most
of it after dark. Could they make that distance in time?
Dunwody, moody, silent, yet tense, keyed to the highest point, now
made little comment. Even when left alone, he ventured upon no
intimate theme with his companion in the coach; nor did she in turn
speak upon any subject which admitted argument. Once she
congratulated him upon his recovery from what had seemed so
dangerous a hurt.
"But that is nothing now," he said. "I got off better than I had
any right,--limp a little, maybe, but they say that even that is
mostly a matter of habit now.
Pages:
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460