By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. " "Well, if they send you to prison, I'll be outside when they let you go. You will make her suffer. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue.
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