“What are you carrying?” he went on; and, approaching her, he took a small black bag from her hand.
“My—my things for the night,” she stammered.
“Are you walking in your sleep?” he asked, in a curious tone.
“N-no; I am going to spend the night with a friend,—a girl I know. I am very fond of her. She lives across the meadows.”
“Indeed; shall I see you there before I go to the village?” and he politely threw away his cigar.
Nina hesitated. This was not quite what she wished, and he went on: “Perhaps you do not care for me to see where you are going?”
“No, I don’t,” she said, in a low voice.
“I suppose you are planning to come back in the morning and take the train with me?” he asked, in a livelier way.
“Perhaps I had better not,” she said, evasively.
“By Jove! I believe she’s running away,” he inwardly exclaimed. Outwardly he was cool. “Did you tell Mrs. Danvers about your ardent wish to see this friend?”