With a shock she realized her position.

No shelter, and the storm of the season upon her! What should she do?
There was no way of getting into the house at the rear, for the bushes were too thick.

She must accept her fate, be drenched to the skin, perhaps smitten by the next thunderbolt.

But Antoinette Duclos was no coward, so far as physical ills were concerned.

She drew herself up straight against the trunk of the tree, thinking that this, bad as it was, was better than shelter with the enemy at the door.