Would it fall
upon the man who had come to her rescue at Newgate? Certainly it would
be stretched out against him were he such a man as Lord Rosmore declared
him to be.
Wearied out with much thinking, Barbara fell asleep towards morning, and
the sun was high, flooding the terrace with light and warmth, when she
awoke.
Later, she went across the ruins to the door in the tower. Martin might
have returned in the night. The door was still locked. It was always
locked when Martin was away from the Abbey, and he took the key with
him.
She went back slowly along the terrace, and, from sheer loneliness, she
was tempted to forsake her solitude and join the guests. There was a
group of them now at the end of the terrace, and Barbara's step had
quickened in that direction when she heard Mrs. Dearmer laugh. She
shuddered, and went no farther. Utter loneliness was far preferable to
that woman's company.
The day seemed to drag more heavily than any which had preceded it.
Surely there had never been such long hours and so many hours in a day
before! The sunshine was out of keeping with her mood, and it was almost
a relief to her when the afternoon became overcast and the haze on the
distant hills spoke of rain.
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