He hated to speak words that would be so hateful to her; and when he came by her side breathless, and she spoke to him again, he walked on, waiting till she should stop, trying to formulate what he had to say, listening and watching intently for some sign of the recreant.

Again speaking as though she must unburden her mind, she turned into the lane.

Over its fences he peered down the dark main road, but neither in flash nor interval could the other man be seen.

He had not the slightest notion what the lady was saying now; lofty philosophy or practical sarcasm it might be, it was all lost in his exaggerated idea of what her fear and dismay would be when he spoke.
Before he had a chance to speak, however, he saw, in dark outline, the building of the farm to which he supposed her to be going.

It would be a thousand times better to conduct her in silence to the door, which was now so near.