"Let them think we're drowned—anything," I said desperately. "I will not be found like this."
Roger looked about like a hunted animal.
"There's—there's a house near here on the hill," he said. Afterward I remembered how he hesitated over it. "We could get up there, I'm pretty sure."
He looked back.
"They seem to have stopped," he said. "Perhaps the other bridge has gone."
He lifted me out and set me on the bank. He was not particularly gentle about it, and I was all he could carry. That's one thing about Bill—he's as strong as an ox and as gentle as a young gazelle.
Well, we scurried up the bank, the water pouring off us, and I lost a shoe. Roger wouldn't wait until I found it, but dragged me along, panting. Suddenly I knew that I hated him with a deadly hatred. The thought of how nearly I had married him made me shiver.
"I wish you'd let go of me," I said.
"Why? You can't climb alone in the silly clothes you wear."
"Perhaps not, but I don't like you to touch me."