I wonder——” He turned slowly round. She is no longer mine; she is yours. “It is possible, mademoiselle,” he said, “that this affair is not yet ended. She played “Happy Birthday” for John, after which they plied her with a dozen requests. She was to see Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at all. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. These cogitations were interrupted by the entrance of the doctor. Until the age of five she adored him. She no longer felt sick or dizzy, her muscles returned to a relaxed, supple state.
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