"She is on her way to the golf links." "Golf links!" Borrowdean exclaimed.
Mannering nodded.
"Behind the sandhills there," he remarked.
There was a grinding of brakes.

The car came to a standstill below.

A woman, who sat alone in the back seat, raised her veil and looked upwards.
"Am I late ?" she asked.

"Clara has gone on--they told me!" She had addressed Mannering, but her eyes seemed suddenly drawn to Borrowdean.

As though dazzled by the sun, she dropped her veil.
Borrowdean was standing as though turned to stone, perfectly rigid and motionless.