These were all external things, which could be fought down. But the
wound that Eliot himself had dealt her had pierced to the very core of her
being.
"Well," Robin resumed thoughtfully after a brief silence. "I've _got_ to
stay here till the six months are run out. But you needn't, Ann. You had
better look for a post of some kind till I'm free--"
"A post!" She laughed rather bitterly. "I've a good recommendation for any
post, haven't I? A story like this would be sure to follow me up somehow,
and I should probably be politely requested by my employer to leave.'
"Then go away for a bit. I'll find the money somehow. I won't have you
baited by all the old tabby-cats in the neighbourhood."
Ann stood up, her head thrown back proudly on its slim young throat.
"_No_," she said with decision. "No, Robin. I'm not going to run away from
village gossip. I'm going to face it out."
Robin sprang up.
"Well done, little sister!" he exclaimed, a ring of wholehearted admiration
in his voice. "We'll stick it out together--stay here and live it down." He
held out his hand and, Ann laying hers within it, they shook hands soberly,
just as in earlier days they had so often shaken hands over some childish
pact.
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