Of course I could trust you with--you have made me use the word--the dollars, but you must realize that I could not do anything in public opposition to my uncle's opinion." Winston was sensible of a great relief, but it did not appear advisable to show it.

"There are so many things you apparently find it difficult to forgive me--and we will let this one pass," he said.

"Still, I cannot help thinking that Colonel Barrington will have a good deal to answer for." Maud Barrington made no answer, but she was sensible of a respect which appeared quite unwarranted for the dryly-spoken man, who, though she guessed her words stung him now and then, bore them without wincing.
While she sat silent, shivering under her furs, darkness crept down.
The smoky cloud dropped lower, the horizon closed in as the gray obscurity rolled up to meet them across a rapidly-narrowing strip of snow.

Then she could scarcely see the horses, and the muffled drumming of their hoofs was lost in a doleful wail of wind.

It also seemed to her that the cold, which was already almost insupportable, suddenly increased, as it not infrequently does in that country before the snow.
Then a white powder was whirled into her face, filling her eyes and searing the skin, while the horses were plunging at a gallop through a filmy haze, and Winston, whitened all over, leaned forward with lowered head hurling hoarse encouragement at them.