the lane: at the corner he stood still, and said in a low voice—
"Hush—stop crying at once! I've something to say to you."
She tore herself from his arm, and gasped.
"It's not Harry," she said. "Oh, how dare you!" She had been brave till she had dropped into his arms. Then the need for bravery had seemed over. Now her tears were dried swiftly and suddenly by the blaze of anger and courage in her eyes.
"Don't be unreasonable," he said, and even at that moment of disappointment and rage his voice pleased her. "I had to get you away somehow. I couldn't risk an explanation right under your aunt's windows. Harry's sprained his knee—cricket. He couldn't come."
A sharp resentment stirred in her against the lover who could play cricket on the very day of an elopement.
"He told you to come? Oh, how could he betray me!"
"My dear girl, what was he to do? He couldn't leave you to wait out here alone—perhaps for hours."
