“I’m a bit weak, of course, but fit enough to ride.”
“Burgwan! You are going to do this madness for me.”
“No, no,” I said, my head clearing again. “I am just running away because I’m afraid of what may happen to me if I stay until Petrov and the other fools get here.”
“Let me go by myself then.”
“And desert me?” She lifted her hands with a glance of protest.
“You make things so difficult,” she cried; then with a change as a new thought occurred to her, she added: “Beside, there is another reason for you not to come with me. You are so weak we should not be able to ride fast enough. You must see that.”
“You fear I should hamper your escape?”
“Yes,” she answered stoutly, although her eyes were contradicting her words and she dropped them before my look. “You are not strong enough.”
I affected to believe the words and not the eyes.
“I give in. You must go alone then.”