Her answer came so low he had to bend to hear it.
"He wanted it. I had to."
"Why do you give him all he asks for? David is nothing to you."
This time no answer came, and he stretched his hand and clasped the pommel of her saddle. The horses, feeling the pull of the powerful arm, drew together. His knee pressed on the shoulder of her pony, and feeling him almost against her she bent sideways, flinching from the contact.
"Why do you shrink from me, Missy?"
"I'm afraid," she whispered.
They paced on for a moment in silence. When he tried to speak his lips were stiff, and he moistened them to murmur:
"Of what?"
She shrunk still further and raised a hand between them. He snatched at it, pulling it down, saying hoarsely:
"Of me?"