lk
down the steps. He passed out of the gate, and his figure, stooping and
heavy, receded slowly up the street.

For a while she remained where he had left her. She was still trembling
with the humiliation of his last words, which rang so loud in her ears
that it seemed as though they must echo through the village, proclaiming
her a creature to lend herself to such vile suggestions. Her shame
weighed on her like a physical oppression: the roof and walls seemed
to be closing in on her, and she was seized by the impulse to get away,
under the open sky, where there would be room to breathe. She went to
the front door, and as she did so Lucius Harney opened it.

He looked graver and less confident than usual, and for a moment or two
neither of them spoke. Then he held out his hand. "Are you going out?"
he asked. "May I come in?"

Her heart was beating so violently that she was afraid to speak, and
stood looking at him with tear-dilated eyes; then she became aware of
what her silence must betray, and said quickly: "Yes: come in."

She led the way into the dining-room, and they sat down on opposite
sides of the table, the cruet-stand and japanned bread-basket between
them. Harney had laid his straw hat on the table, and as he sat there,
in his easy-looking summer clothes, a brown tie knotted under his
flannel collar, and his smooth brown hair brushed back from his
forehead, she pictured him, as she had seen him the night before, lying
on his bed, with the tossed locks falling into his eyes, and his bare
throat rising out of his unbuttoned shirt. He had never seemed so remote
as at the moment when that vision flashed through her mind.

"I'm so sorry it's good-bye: I suppose you know I'm leaving," he began,
abruptly and awkwardly; she guessed that he was wondering how much she
knew of his reasons for going.

"I presume you found your work was over quicker than what you expected,"
she said.

"Well, yes--that is, no: there are plenty of things I should have liked
to do. But my holiday's limited; and now that Mr. Royall needs the horse
for himself it's rather difficult to find means of getting about."

"There ain't any too many teams for hire around here," she acquiesced;
and there was another silence.

"These days here have been--awfully pleasant: I wanted to thank you for
making them so," he continued, his colour rising.

She could not think of any reply, and he went on: "You've been
wonderfully kind to me, and I wan