For the first time she raised her
voice, not in fear, but in a pathetic little cry of apology for her
awkwardness in tumbling about and not being able to grapple this new
experience, and then she found herself near the door, which had once
more swung free. She grasped it eagerly, and darted out of the study
into the deserted passage. Here some instinct made her follow the line
of the wall, rather than the shaking balusters of the corridor and
staircase, but before she reached the bottom she heard a shout, and
the farm laborer she had seen coming towards her seized her by the arm,
dragged her to the open doorway of the drawing-room, and halted beneath
its arch in the wall. Another thrill, but lighter than before, passed
through the building, then all was still again.
"It's over; I reckon that's all just now," said the man, coolly. "It's
quite safe to cut and run for the garden now, through this window." He
half led, half lifted her through the French window to the veranda and
the ground, and locking her arm in his, ran quickly forward a hundred
feet from the house, stopping at last beneath a large post oak where
there was a rustic seat into which she sank.
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