She watched him, feeling that she would have gladly detained
him had that been possible. Slowly, with palsied movements, he at length
arose and took up his basket, doubled himself up before her with an
almost ludicrous excess of deference, and finally hobbled away.
VI
There fell a step upon the parched earth, and with a start Beryl turned
her head. She had seated herself again, but it was impossible to feign
limpness with every pulse at the gallop. She looked up at Fletcher with
a desperate smile.
He wore a knotted handkerchief on his head to protect it from the sun,
and in his hat, which he balanced with great care in both hands, he
carried water.
"I am glad to see you looking better," he said as he reached her. "I am
afraid there isn't much more than a cupful left. I had to go nearly half
a mile to get it, and it has been running out steadily all the way
back."
He knelt down before her, deep concern on his sunburnt face.
Reluctantly, out of sheer gratitude, she dipped her handkerchief in the
tepid drain, and bathed her face and hands.
"I am so sorry to give you all this trouble," she murmured.
He smiled with raised brows.
"I think I ought to say that. You will never trust yourself to me again
after this experience."
She looked at him with a guilty sense of duplicity.
"I--scarcely see how you were to blame for it," she said, rather
faintly.
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