"She bolted the first time for her own amusement," he continued. "The
second gallop was for mine"--grimly. "Don't you see, she'd have bolted
again whenever the fit took her if I hadn't punished her. The only cure was
to make her gallop till she was dead beat. She knows which of us is master
now. And she doesn't bear me any grudge, either. Do you, old thing?" And he
patted the mare's streaming neck.
"I wonder she doesn't," said Ann. "Wasn't it--rather brutal of you?"
"Not a bit. Merely necessary. And neither people nor animals bear a grudge
when once they are mastered, fair and square." His eyes, with a gay,
dare-devil challenge in them, flashed up and met hers. "You'll find that
out some day," he added.
"I hope not," replied Ann stiffly. Then, remembering how near death he had
been, she softened. "Anyway, I'm thankful you're alive. I don't know how
you managed to pull the mare round as you did."
"_I_ pull her round? My dear girl, if it had rested with me, we should both
be lying in smithereens at the present moment, on the rocks below. She
realised the drop just in the nick of time, and wheeled before we got to
it."
"What do you mean--she realised it? How could she?"
For a moment Brett's eyes held a curious gravity.
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