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Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 1849-1924

"The Shuttle"


"Betty," his tone was even cynically cool, "I shall stalk you no more.
The chase is at an end. I think I have taken all out of you I intended
to. Perhaps it was a bad joke and was carried too far. I wanted to prove
to you that there were circumstances which might be too much even for
a young woman from New York. I have done it. Do you suppose I am such
a fool as to bring myself within reach of the law? I am going away and
will send assistance to you from the next house I pass. I have left
some matches and a few broken sticks on the hearth in the cottage. Be
a sensible girl. Limp in there and build yourself a fire as soon as you
hear me gallop away. You must be chilled through. Now I am going."
He tramped across the bit of garden, down the brick path, mounted his
horse and put it to a gallop at once. Clack, clack, clack--clacking
fainter and fainter into the distance--and he was gone.
When she realised that the thing was true, the effect upon her of her
sense of relief was that the growing likelihood of a second swoop into
darkness died away, but one curious sob lifted her chest as she leaned
back against the rough growth behind her. As she changed her position
for a better one she felt the jagged pain again and knew that in the
tenseness of her terror she had actually for some time felt next to
nothing of her hurt.


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