His back was heaving from the violence of his exertion.

Miss Layton was walking rapidly towards the stile.

Obviously she had perceived the waiting man, and she was not pleased.
Her pretty face, flushed and sunburnt, wore the strained aspect of a woman annoyed, but trying to be civil.
It was she who took the initiative.
"Good day, Mr.Capella," she said pleasantly.

"Why on earth did you run so fast ?" "Because I wished to be here before you, Miss Layton," replied the man, his voice tremulous with excitement.
"Then I wish I had known, because I could have beaten you easily if you meant to race me." "That was not my object." "Well, now you have attained it, whatever it may have been, please allow me to get over the stile.

I will be late for luncheon.