Perigal started, carrying his dry boots and coat.
"Faster! faster!" cried Mavis, seeing that he was inclined to linger.
She followed behind; she did not move with her customary swinging stride, Jill's extremity having sapped her strength. Directly Perigal was out of sight, she caught Jill in her arms, to smother her wet head and body with kisses.
"Oh, my darling! my darling!" she murmured. "To think how nearly we were parted forever!"
It was with something of an effort that she pursued her way to Broughton. Her steps dragged; her mind was filled with a picture of her dearly loved Jill, cold, lifeless, unresponsive to her caress.
When she reached the inn, she learned that Perigal was upstairs changing into the landlord's clothes. When he came down, clad in corduroys, with a silk handkerchief about his throat, she was surprised to see how handsome he looked.
"So you've got here!" he remarked, as he saw Mavis.
"Didn't I say I was coming?" she asked, as she sank on a seat in the tiny sitting-room.
"You look bad. You must have something."
"I'd like a little milk, please."