She found she was trembling at his nearness and full of a thrilling dread that he might touch her. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. . Of what use was the temporary set-back to memory, when it always returned with redoubled poignancy? Then came another thought, astonishing. "This young fool is come to restore the article—whatever it may be—which Lady Trafford was anxious to conceal, and which his companion purloined. "I was going to die, Hoddy!" she whispered.
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