She threw herself on the ground in despair, and hid her face.
After thus hunting her as a cat might a mouse, or a lion a man, what could she look for but that he would pounce upon her, and tear her to pieces?
Fearfully expectant of the horrible grasp, she lay breathless.

But nothing came.

Still she lay, and still nothing came.

Could it be that she was dreaming?
In dreams generally the hideous thing never arrived.

But she dared not look up.