"We can watch the road from
here," he remarked. "We should see the dog-cart about a mile away."
This was true. Barren, stony, and deserted, the road twisted in and out
below them, visible from that elevation for a considerable distance.
Beryl looked over it in silence. Her heart was beating in great
suffocating throbs, while she strove to summon her resolution. Could she
do this thing? Dared she? On the other hand, could she face the
alternative risk? Her face burned fiercely yet again as she thought of
it.
Furtively she began to study the man stretched out upon the ground close
to her, and a sudden, surging regret went through her. If only it had
been Lord Ronald lounging there beside her, how utterly different would
have been her attitude! Foolish and inept he might be--he was--but, as
he himself had comfortably remarked, a man might be worse. She trusted
him implicitly, every one trusted him. It was impossible to do
otherwise.
Had any one accused him of laying a trap for her, she would have treated
the suggestion as too contemptible for notice. A sharp sigh escaped her.
Why had he taken her so promptly at her word? He could never have
seriously cared for her. Probably it was not in him to care.
"You are not comfortable?" said Fletcher.
She started at the sound of his voice, and with desperate impulse took
action before her courage could fail her.
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