"Oh, if you feel like that——" He let me go, and I almost fell. "You know, Clara, I am trying hard to restrain myself, but—this is all your doing."
"I suppose I broke the bridge down," I said bitterly, "and brought on the rain, and all the rest of it."
"Now I recognise the Clara I used to know," he had the audacity to say, "always begging the question and shifting the responsibility. For heaven's sake don't stop to quarrel! They've probably found the car by this time."
We got to the house and I fell exhausted on the steps. To my surprise Roger got out a bunch of keys and fitted one to the lock.
"I know these people," he said. "I—I sometimes come out in the fall for a bit of shooting. Place is closed now."
The interior looked dark and smelled musty. I didn't want to go in, but it was raining again and there was nothing else to do.
"Better overcome your repugnance and give me your hand," he said. "If we turn on a light they'll spot us."
Oh, it is all very well to say, looking back, that we should have sat in the car until we were found, and have carried it all off as a part of the joke. I couldn't, that's flat. I couldn't have laughed if I'd been paid to.
We bumped into a square hall and I sat down. It was very quiet all at once, and the only thing to be heard was the water dripping from us to the hardwood floor.
"If that's a velvet chair you're on it will be ruined," said Roger's voice out of the darkness.