Her keenest feeling at
that moment was, perhaps, that expressed by the quick, furtive
glance with which she looked round from time to time, as some
following footstep made itself heard behind her. The sudden
alarm at Chaudfontaine had given rise to a haunting dread,
which she was unable to shake off, though even that was rather
a vague sensation than a well-defined, reasonable fear.
Still she kept on her way, strong in the strength of a
resolution that had so taken possession of all the deepest
feelings and affections of a most ardent little nature, that
nothing but absolute physical inability could have held her
back from keeping to it now. It was perhaps well for her,
however, that with her childish pleasure in planning every
detail, she had arranged everything beforehand with such
minuteness, that she had no need to reflect now as to what she
had to do. She had only to go on mechanically, and indeed she
seemed to have no power of reflection left in her at all, as
she walked slowly up the street, past the gay shops, where, a
happy, chattering little girl, she had so often lingered with
her father, to choose some pretty trifle.
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