“What?” A light broke in upon him. “You’ve been sitting there all evening in your riding habit! Your horse has been standing saddled and bridled in the stall! Tell me—where are you going?”
“For a little ride, I said. Now let loose my rein.”
“Why—why—” he gasped in amazement. Then he cried out fiercely: “You shall not go! It’s madness to go out in a storm like this!”
“Mr. Bruce, let go that rein this instant!” she said peremptorily.
“I shall do nothing of the sort! I shall not let you make an insane fool of yourself!”
She bent downward. Though in the darkness he could not see her face, the tensity of her tone told him her eyes were flashing.
“Mr. Bruce,” she said with slow emphasis, “if you do not loosen that rein, this second, I give you my word I shall never see you, never speak to you again.”
“All right, but I shall not let you make a fool of yourself,” he cried with fierce dominance. “You’ve got to yield to sense, even though I use force on you.”
She did not answer. Swiftly she reversed her riding crop and with all her strength brought its heavy end down upon his wrist.
“Nelly!” she ordered sharply, and in the same instant struck the horse. The animal lunged free from Bruce’s benumbed grasp, and sprang forward into a gallop.