‘I knew you would be furious. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. The moment my escape is known, a large reward will be placed on my head. He met her eyes with his fiery black gaze. Wiped out, but for these. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. She followed him about persistently, and succeeded, after a brisk, unchivalrous struggle (in which he pinched and asked her to “cheese it”), in kissing him among the raspberries behind the greenhouse. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground.
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