"Well―"
"And so―"
They both hesitated. Rampole felt a little unreal, and his heart was pounding with enormous rhythm. All about them the yellow sky had changed to a darkling light edged with purple. The fragrance of the hedgerows had become almost overpowering. Her eyes were very strong, very living, and yet veiled as though with pain; they went over his face with desperate seeking. Though he was looking only there, he somehow felt that her hands were extending….
He caught her hands. "Let me walk home with you," he said, heavily; "let me―"
"Ahoy there!" boomed a voice from up the lane. "Hold on! Wait a minute."
Rampole felt something at his heart that was like a physical jerk. He was trembling, and he felt through her warm hands that she was trembling, too. The voice broke such an emotional tensity that they both felt bewildered; and then the girl began to laugh.
Dr. Fell loomed up, puffing, out of the lane. Behind him Rampole saw a figure that looked familiar; yes, it was Payne, with the curved pipe in his mouth. He seemed to be chewing it.
Dread, coming back again after a few brief hours….
The doctor looked very grave. He stopped to get his breath, leaning one cane up against his leg.
"I don't want to alarm you, Dorothy," he began, "and I know the subject is taboo; all the same, this is a time for speaking straight out―"