"
And infected by the fear in that wizened voice, Barbara flew.
She caught her brother as he was entering the taxi-cab in which he
had come, and without a word slipped in beside him. The driver's face
appeared at the window, but Miltoun only motioned with his head, as if
to say: Anywhere, away from here!
The thought flashed through Barbara: "If only I can keep him in here
with me!"
She leaned out, and said quietly:
"To Nettlefold, in Sussex--never mind your petrol--get more on the road.
You can have what fare you like. Quick!"
The man hesitated, looked in her face, and said:
"Very well; miss. By Dorking, ain't it?"
Barbara nodded.
CHAPTER XXVIII
The clock over the stables was chiming seven when Miltoun and Barbara
passed out of the tall iron gates, in their swift-moving small world,
that smelled faintly of petrol. Though the cab was closed, light spurts
of rain drifted in through the open windows, refreshing the girl's hot
face, relieving a little her dread of this drive. For, now that Fate had
been really cruel, now that it no longer lay in Miltoun's hands to save
himself from suffering, her heart bled for him; and she remembered to
forget herself. The immobility with which he had received her intrusion,
was ominous. And though silent in her corner, she was desperately
working all her woman's wits to discover a way of breaking into the
house of his secret mood.
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