The exclamation was as obvious as Jasper's satisfaction at seeing her.
"David told me you were down in the wood."
"David! How did you make him understand."
"Oh, somehow. I have brought you back your scarf."
He dismounted, looped Devil Dick's bridle over his sound arm, and set himself beside Nance. Her eyes sent a hovering glance over his face. An immense seriousness seemed to possess him. His square jaw, firm mouth, and blue eyes might, have belonged to a man who was about to lead a forlorn hope. Yet the whole truth of it was that he had been attacked by violent and absurd shyness.
"How is the arm?"
"Mending. Surgeon Doddington admired the way you had bound it up."
"Did he?"
"Yes. By the way, I have forgotten that cushion. I must bring it back some other time."
He glanced at Nance, and the frank flash of laughter in her eyes helped him to climb out of the slough of his own shy seriousness.