She started violently, and grasped the drawing-block in both hands.
Clear over the gravel, muffled but still distinct across the long wet grass, she could hear a firm step coming.

Then it rang out sharply on the stone pavement.

A tall man came suddenly round the corner, under the archway, and stood before her.

It was Charles.
The yellow cat, which had a leaning towards the aristocracy, left Ruth, and, picking its way daintily over the round stones towards him, rubbed off some more of its wardrobe against his heather shooting-stockings.
"I hardly think it is worth while to say anything except the truth," said Charles at last.

"I have followed you here." As Ruth could say nothing in reply, it was fortunate that at the moment she had nothing to say.