"I fell over some wire, just here, where the path is so dark. I might have gone over the edge," she added with a shudder.
"You had a lucky escape—but I'm afraid you're hurt."
"It isn't much. I may have twisted my ankle a bit, that's all."
She stood there in the shadows, her white dress gleaming like a moth, her face mysterious in the disarray of her wrap. Nigel's eyes devoured her, while his heart filled itself with inexpressible pain.
"Take my arm," he said huskily, "and I'll help you back to Shovelstrode."
"Oh, no!—I'll go on to Redpale. It's much nearer—if you'll be so kind as to help me."
"But how about getting home?"
"My fiancé, Mr. Lowe, will drive me home. He was to have fetched me too, but at the last moment he had to go up to town, and couldn't be back in time."
"Are you sure you're well enough to go out to dinner?" He hated the idea of taking her to Redpale.
"Oh, quite—this is nothing. Besides, dining at Redpale is just like dining at home—I don't call it going 'out' to dinner."