"No, Sir Rowland," replied the attendant, "as you proposed to ride to Saint Albans to-night, I thought you might choose to see him yourself. He pumped as she raised her legs obediently. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. Then she passed from the room on the arm of General Lord Charvill, chatting animatedly to him. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building.
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