All the while he was buoyed up by the assurance that he would catch her in the course of the next hundred yards.
Then his quarry left the wood, by an exceedingly small gap, and ran down a field path toward the village of Little Deeping.

By the time the count was through the gap she had a lead of a hundred yards.

To his joy, in the open country, on the smoother path, he made up the lost ground quickly.

When they reached the common, he was a bare forty yards behind her.

He was not surprised when in despair she left the path and bolted into the refuge of an old house that stood beside it.
Mopping his hot wet brow he walked up the garden path with a victorious air, and knocked firmly on the door.