dared not
do. His touch was light, almost momentary, but it was too much, it
thrilled through her wildly, irresistibly, and she drew back fearing
to do anything else.

"Don't!" she said, and her voice was sharp with the anger of pain.

He stepped back a pace. "Thank you," he said; "I am answered."

Captain Polkington had been dozing; there really was nothing else to
do; but suddenly he was aroused; there was a sound below; the motor
moving at last. Yes, it was going, really going; he went to the window
and, taking care not to be seen, watched the car go down the sandy
road. After that he went down-stairs, and finding Johnny, who had
finished his watering, persuaded him to come for a stroll on the
heath. They took a basket to bring home anything they might find, and
shouted news of their intention to Julia, who did not answer, then set
out.

Now, in the present state of their development, motors are not things
on which a man can always rely. More especially is this the case when
any one like Mr. Gillat has had anything to do with them. The obliging
Johnny, had arranged the inside of Rawson-Clew's car, covering up what
he thought might be hurt by the sun and blowing sand while it stood at
the roadside, and taking into the house when he went in to tea,
anything that could be stolen if--as was quite out of the
question--one came that way with a mind to steal. Johnny had brought
back most of the things and replaced them before Rawson-Clew started,
but not quite all. When the car had got a little distance down the
road it, with a perversity worthy of a reasonable being, developed a
need for the forgotten item. Rawson-Clew searched for it, could not
find it, discovered that he could not get on without it, and,
thinking if not saying something not very complimentary about Mr.
Gillat, walked back to the cottage.

He supposed he would find Johnny in the garden, but he did not; he and
the Captain were some way out on the heath now, and, fortunately for
the latter's peace, neither saw any one approach the cottage.
Rawson-Clew looked round the garden and finding no one decided, rather
reluctantly, that he must go to the house. He did not want to meet
Julia again; he thought it rather unlikely that she should still be in
the kitchen, but there was a chance of it, so he approached with a
view to reconnoitering before presenting himself. The outer kitchen,
which partook rather of the nature of a wash-house, had a large
unglazed