She came very near that night to resolving that she would return to her home next morning. Anna merely glanced at the coarse, flushed features, and at once shook her head. Cheveney was looking after her, I think, then. "If we take him, I don't mind giving you a share—say a fourth—provided you lend a helping hand. Her cogitations were dissipated by a knock on the door. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing.
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