The sun was unmistakably hot, but her parasol was too well known and offered too violent a contrast to the duster for practical use.

Once she stopped with an exclamation of annoyance, hesitated, and looked back.

In half an hour she had twice lost her shoe and her temper; a pink flush took possession of her cheeks, and her eyes were bright with suppressed rage.
Dust began to form grimy circles around their orbits; with cat-like shivers she even felt it pervade the roots of her blond hair.

Gradually her breath grew more rapid and hysterical, her smarting eyes became humid, and at last, encountering two observant horsemen in the road, she turned and fled, until, reaching the wood, she began to cry.
Nevertheless she waited for the two horsemen to pass, to satisfy herself that she was not followed; then pushed on vaguely, until she reached a fallen tree, where, with a gesture of disgust, she tore off her hapless duster and flung it on the ground.

She then sat down sobbing, but after a moment dried her eyes hurriedly and started to her feet.