The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. She set her fingers in the hair and tugged, drawing him to a sitting posture and stooping so that her eyes would be on the level with his when he awoke. It hit her just above the knee. Here he was preparing to leap over the hedge into the fields on the left, when he was intercepted by two horsemen, who, hearing the shouts, rode up and struck at him with the butt-ends of their heavy riding-whips. It is not, my dear Veronica, that I think there is any harm in you; there is not. She lay still for a long time, and her mind resumed at a more tolerable pace. “Where am I?” he muttered. By 12:30 a.
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