“I am tired,” she said, hanging her head a little, “and have walked too far. I shall be better soon.”
To Judith there was a pathos in the voice that made her heart open like a budding rose. Some deep instinct urged her on, to take rebuffs if they should come.
“Have I not seen your face before?”
Drawing near, she sat down beside Joan on the stones. The move was too sudden to be prevented. Yet Joan would not look into Judith’s eyes, but drew her wet cloak round her and hardened her heart.
“I am only tired,” she said; “please do not trouble over me. I shall be strong again when I have rested.”
Judith touched the other’s cloak.
“Why, you are drenched!” she said; “have you far to go?”
There were lines as of pain about Joan’s mouth; she shivered in the wind and seemed to strive for her breath.
“To Rilchester,” she said, “and then—”
“And then?”