They had not gone five yards when he stopped.
"You are limping. What is it?"
She murmured something about the stones.
"You had better ride," he decided briefly. "Rupert will carry you like a lamb. Ready? How's that?"
He lifted her up into the saddle as if she had been a child, and stooped to arrange her foot in the strap of the stirrup.
"Good heavens!" she heard him murmur, as he touched her shoe. "No wonder the stones seemed hard! Quite comfortable?" he asked her, as he straightened himself.
"Quite," she answered meekly.
And he marched on, leading the horse with care.
At the gate of the shadowy little compound that surrounded the bungalow she had quitted so precipitately he paused.
"I will leave the animal here," he said, holding up his hands to her.