That he had made a fool
of himself was worse to him than all else. He actually wheeled about and
strode away to the house.
Because minutes seemed hours, she thought he was gone long, but he was
not away for twenty minutes. He had, in fact, gone into the bare front
room again, and sitting upon the box near the hearth, let his head drop
in his hands and remained in this position thinking. In the end he got
up and went out to the shed where he had left the horses.
Betty was feeling that before long she might find herself making that
strange swoop into the darkness of space again, and that it did
not matter much, as one apparently lay quite still when one was
unconscious--when she heard that one horse was being led out into the
lane. What did that mean? Had he got tired of the chase--as the other
man did--and was he going away because discomfort and fatigue had cooled
and disgusted him--perhaps even made him feel that he was playing the
part of a sensational idiot who was laying himself open to derision?
That would be like him, too.
Presently she heard his footsteps once more, but he did not come as near
her as before--in fact, he stood at some yards' distance when he stopped
and spoke--in quite a new manner.
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