ike a circle of enchantment
keeping back intruders. There was no wind, but she was cold and her
desire for George had changed its quality. She wanted the presence of
another human being in this stillness; she would have welcomed Mrs.
Samson with a shout and even Notya with a smile, but she found herself
unable to turn and make for home. It would have been like letting danger
loose on her.

"George!" she called loudly, before she knew she was going to do it.
"George, George, George!" Her voice, shriller than its wont, raged at
her predicament.

A dog barked in the hollow and came nearer. She heard George silence
him, and she knew that man and dog were approaching through the wood.
Then her fears vanished and she strolled a few paces from the trees and
stood, an easy mark for George when he appeared.

"Was it you who called?" he asked her from a little distance.

"Me?" Now he was close to her, and she saw his guarded eyes soften
unwillingly.

"Somebody called. Didn't you hear the dog barking? Somebody called
'George!'"

"Perhaps," she ventured in the falsely innocent manner which both
recognized as foolish and unworthy and in which both took a different
delight, "perhaps it was--thought-reading!"

"With the dog?" he sneered.

"You and the dog," she said, joining them deliberately. "It's getting so
dark that I can hardly see your cross face. That's a good thing, because
I want to say thank you for driving Uncle Alfred and Notya to the
station."

"That's all right," he said, and added with a sullen curiosity, "Is he
the one who's going to adopt you?"

"Yes."

"He hasn't done it yet?"

"I'm not sure that I want to go. George, shall I tell you something?
Something charming, a pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night--I did
call you!"

"Well," he said after a pause, "I knew that."

"You weren't certain. Tell the truth! Were you certain?"

"No, I was not," he said with the sulky honesty which should have moved
her.

"And had you been thinking of me?"

He would not answer that.

"I shan't be hurt," she said, swaying from foot to foot, "because I
know!" Against the invading blackness her face and teeth gleamed
clearly.

"You're like a black cat!" he burst out, in forgetfulness of himself.

"A witch's cat!"

"A witch."

"Do you think witches are ever afraid? Only when they see the cross,
isn't it? But I was, George, when I called out."

"What of?"

"I--don't know. The quietness and the dark."