He made a movement toward her, and then recalled the circumstances of their last conversation in that study. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. The latter had delivered himself from one of his assailants, the attendant, Davies. “Didn’t you know he was married?” asked Miss Klegg, and was struck by a thought that made her glance quickly at her companion. Let me go my own way towards them. For freedom at least. “Pretend,” he said, “that all I have said hasn’t been said.
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