When at last he released her she swayed unsteadily.
"Oh, go--go!" she whispered, her hand against her bruised lips.
For a moment he stared at her without speaking.
"All right. I'll go," he said sullenly, at last. "But I shall come back.
You'll marry me, Ann--I swear it!"
Vaguely she heard him go--the closing of the door behind him, and, a minute
later, the sound of the latch of the gate falling into its socket. Came the
trampling of a restive horse on the road outside, followed by the rhythmic
beat of cantering hoofs. Then silence.
How long she remained where Brett had left her she never knew. She was
oblivious of the passage of time, conscious only of a vast grey sea of
misery which seemed to have hemmed her in on every side and which had now
risen suddenly and closed over her head. But at last, with a quivering,
long-drawn breath, she moved stumblingly across towards the window. The
room appeared to her stiflingly hot. Her face burned, and her temples
throbbed as though a couple of relentless hammers were beating inside her
head. With fumbling, nerveless fingers she unfastened the catch of the
window and threw it open, letting in the cool autumnal breeze.
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