They were in the full glare of the door lamps, and she saw that his face was very earnest, and as he began to speak he flinched and shifted the cloak awkwardly.
"You have been hurt--why did you not tell me that ?" "It is nothing--the fellow had a knife, and he--but it's only a trifle in the shoulder.

I must be off!" The lightning had several times leaped sharply out of the hills; the wind was threshing the garden foliage, and now the rain roared on the tin roof of the veranda.
As he spoke a carriage rolled into the grounds and came rapidly toward the porte-cochere.
"I'm off--please believe in me--a little." "You must not go if you are hurt--and you can't run away now--my father and mother are at the door." There was an instant's respite while the carriage drew up to the veranda steps.

She heard the stable-boy running out to help with the horses.
"You can't go now; come in and wait." There was no time for debate.

She flung open the door and swept him past her with a gesture--through the library and beyond, into a smaller room used by Judge Claiborne as an office.

Armitage sank down on a leather couch as Shirley flung the portieres together with a sharp rattle of the rod rings.
She walked toward the hall door as her father and mother entered from the veranda.
"All, Miss Claiborne! Your father and mother picked me up and brought me in out of the rain.