Vaguely recognising behind the alteration in Ann's manner
some impulse of which he could not fathom the source, he merely accepted
the fact of the change and set himself to amuse and entertain her--to hold
her interest without frightening her.
During the next few days he was with her almost constantly. One day he
rowed her over to a distant promontory, when they picnicked together on
the brow of the cliffs, afterwards exploring the woods which crowned them.
Another time they motored into Ferribridge, where Ann, long denied the
sight of a shop window, revelled in the opportunity to spend her pennies
and shopped riotously. Yet another time, on the day preceding that fixed
for the dinner-party on board the _Sphinx_, they rode together on the
downs--Ann mounted on Dick Turpin, Brett on a bad-tempered, unruly mare
which Lady Susan had bred and which the grooms at White Windows were
terrified to back.
Forrester's horsemanship was superb. He had hands of steel and velvet, and
fear was an unknown quantity to him. Ann watched the ensuing tussle between
man and beast with unequivocal admiration. The mare, a big raking bay, with
black points and a white blaze, sulkily obeyed her rider's curbing hands
upon the bridle whilst they rode through the lanes, but when they emerged
upon the wide, swelling sweep of the downs, she evidently decided that the
moment had come to assert her independence.
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