There was another moment of silence.
Then I heard her move away.

I looked over my shoulder.

She was walking toward the meadow where Don, the horse, was picketed.

There was offended dignity in every line of her figure.
For a moment I fought with my pride and injured self-respect.

Then I hurried after her.
"Miss Colton," I said.
"Well ?" she neither turned nor stopped.
"Miss Colton, I should not have answered like that.