"Not easily, perhaps. But—-" He put out his hand as if to clasp hers.
At this moment a sudden movement in the bushes behind her struck upon Agatha's ears. She sprang to her feet.
CHAPTER VII
A sense of faintness crept over her. By some strange prescience, she knew who stood behind there in the darkness, concealed, listening. A great horror took possession of her. Why should he haunt her so? What was she to him? He who had a living wife!
She turned to Dillwyn, who had risen too.
"Come back to the house," said she. Her voice was nervous, but very low. She moved away from the seat, on which she had been resting, with a haste that was almost feverish. Dillwyn followed her, his mind disturbed. Had she fathomed his determination to speak to her, and had she purposely prevented his speaking? He went at once to the point, as he always did when uncertain or perplexed.
"Have I offended you?" asked he.
"No! Oh, no! You must not think that. How could you have offended me? But I thought I heard some one—there—behind the shrubs."
"But even so, there are people all over the place to-night."
"Yes, I know." Her tone now was almost heartbroken. She stopped suddenly and held out her hand to him. "You are still my friend?" said she.