Through that she darted, and flew across paths and flowerbeds towards the avenue of limes.
"She shan't get to the bridge before me," she panted.

"She shan't, she shan't.

I won't let her.

Oh, if my breath will only hold out!" She did not reflect that gardeners would naturally think she had gone mad.

She thought of nothing whatever but the look in Ameerah's downcast eyes when the servants had talked of the bottomless water,--the eerie, satisfied, sly look.