Ann's heart gave a sudden leap, then started beating at racing speed. The
meeting was so utterly unlooked-for that for a moment a feeling akin to
terror laid hold of her. Taking the last few yards which still intervened
betwixt her and the safety of the Cottage at a rush, she almost fell
against the gate, seeking with blind, groping fingers for the latch. But it
seemed to be wedged in some way, and she tore at it unavailingly.
"Let me open that for you."
Eliot's voice, rather grave but with the ghost of a quiver in it which
might have betokened some inward amusement, sounded above her head. Then,
as she still struggled vainly to move the recalcitrant latch, he went on
quietly:
"Are you trying to run away from me--or what?"
Ann straightened herself and made a snatch at her fugitive dignity.
"No--oh, no," she said, endeavouring to steady her flurried tones. Her
heart was still playing tricks, throbbing jerkily in her side, and her
breath came unevenly. "Only you startled me. I thought you were a tramp."
She fancied he concealed a smile in the darkness.
"Not very complimentary of you," he answered composedly.
"It wasn't, was it? I'm so sorry," she agreed in eager haste.
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