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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The White Company"

" So saying, with downcast lids and a dignity which was
somewhat marred by her bedraggled skirt, she swept off down the
muddy track, leaving Alleyne standing staring ruefully after her.
He waited in vain for some backward glance or sign of relenting,
but she walked on with a rigid neck until her dress was only a
white flutter among the leaves. Then, with a sunken head and a
heavy heart, he plodded wearily down the other path, wroth with
himself for the rude and uncouth tongue which had given offence
where so little was intended.
He had gone some way, lost in doubt and in self-reproach, his
mind all tremulous with a thousand new-found thoughts and fears
and wonderments, when of a sudden there was a light rustle of the
leaves behind him, and, glancing round, there was this graceful,
swift-footed creature, treading in his very shadow, with her
proud head bowed, even as his was--the picture of humility and
repentance.
"I shall not vex you, nor even speak," she said; "but I would
fain keep with you while we are in the wood."
"Nay, you cannot vex me," he answered, all warm again at the very
sight of her.


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