Capes would come to these teas; he evidently liked to come, and he would appear in the doorway of the preparation-room, a pleasing note of shyness in his manner, hovering for an invitation. Ennison’s manner was certainly not one of a willing host. He knew she had been weeping. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again. The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her.
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