"It is far too late; it is far too wet." He stopped to make her stop, but she only went on, getting much in front.

Then he ran up to her, laid his hand on her arm, and implored her not to go.
There was nothing in his words or action that was precisely loverlike, nor did such likeness occur to her; but in the restraint he put upon the lover in him, his manner appeared to assume the confidence and ease of a perfect friendship, and she, scarce noting much how he spoke or acted, still felt that this advance of his gave her a new liberty to tell him that she scorned his friendship, for she had something of that sort seething in her mind concerning him.

As to his request just then, she merely said she would go on.
He was very urgent.

"Then I will not go," he said, stopping again.

"You can't go without me, and if my going involves your going, it is better not to go." He did not mean what he said, but he hoped to move her.
"You can go or stay as you think right," she said.