"It wasn't that," she said. "He asked me to marry him—and it wasn't that. I met him to go riding, and I think I must have teased him. Yes, I did, because he hit my horse, and I couldn't hold him, and I fell off at last. I lay in the heather for a long time. It was wet, Helen, and I was all alone. I cried at first. I would have killed him if he had come near. I would, somehow, but he never came. He didn't care, and I might have been killed, just because I teased him. Then I cried again. Would you mind coming into bed with me to keep me warm? I'm glad I'm here. I lost my way. I thought I should be out there all night. It was dark, and the wind howled like demons, and the rain, the rain—! Closer, Helen."
"Did he frighten you?"
"Of course he didn't. I was angry. Oh"—the small teeth gritted on each other—"angry! But I'll pay him out. I swear I will."
"Don't swear it. Don't do it. I wish Rupert were here. I'm glad Zebedee gave me Jim."
"Pooh! Do you think George will break into the house? Jim would fly at him. I'd like that. He's got to be paid out."
Helen moved in the bed. "What's the good of doing that?"
"The good! He made me bite the earth. I joggled and joggled, and at last I went over with a bump, and when I bumped I vowed I'd hurt him."
"You needn't keep that kind of vow."
"Then what was the good of making it? We always keep our promises."
"Promise not to see him any more."