"I've got enough money to go on with," she said. "You can send it to the Hotel de Louvre at Paris, if you like," and, with a nod, she sped quick down the path.
Austin Ambrose waited for a minute or two, looking at the sky. The blue that had been so unbroken a short time since was streaked with fleecy clouds, that might later grow black.
Then he opened the cottage door and walked into the room where Margaret sat, her head resting upon her outstretched arms.
While one could count twenty he stood and looked down at her, then he said, in a low voice:
"Miss Margaret!"
She did not start, but raised her head and looked at him, and a shudder seemed to convulse her whole frame.
"You here?" she said, scarcely audible.
He inclined his head with a sorrowful gesture.
"Yes, I am here. I have come to see if by any chance I can be of assistance to you."