Madelon could hear his panting breath.

She resolved that she would go away across the fields, down the road a piece, to another berry patch that she knew of.

Still she did not go.

One of those impulses which seem to come from authority outside one's self, or else from some hidden springs of motion which we know not of, had seized her.

She looked at Lot and moved softly away a few steps, holding her skirts clear of the vines.