He staggered widely, for she was a solidly constructed young person, but he recovered cleverly--and had the impudence to seem amused. Sally's first impression on regaining grasp of her wits was of his smiling face, bent over hers, of a low chuckle, and then--to her complete stupefaction--that she was being kissed. He went about that business, having committed himself to it, in a most business-like fashion; he kissed (as he would have said) for keeps, kissed her lips hungrily, ardently, and most thoroughly; he had been wanting to for a long time, and now that his time was come he made the most of it. She was at first too stunned and shocked to resist. And for another moment a curious medley of emotions kept her inert in his arms, of which the most coherent was a lunatic notion that she, too, had been wanting just this to happen, just this way, for the longest time. And when at length she remembered and felt her anger mounting and was ready to struggle, he disappointingly set her down upon her feet. "There!" he said with satisfaction. "Now that's settled--and a good job, too!" She turned on him furiously. "How dared you-!" "Didn't I deserve it, catching you the way I did?" he asked, opening his eyes in mock wonder. "And didn't you deserve it for being so silly as to try anything like that?" He jerked his head too ward that window. "What on earth possessed you--?" "Don't you know? Don't you understand?" she stormed. "I'm accused of stealing Mrs. Gosnold's jewels--locked up. You knew that surely!" "What an infernal outrage!" he cried indignantly. "No, I didn't know it. How would I? I"--he faltered--"I've been having troubles of my own." That drove in like a knife-thrust the memory of the scene in the garden with Mrs. Artemas. The girl recoiled from him as from something indescribably loathsome. "Oh!" she cried in disgust, "you are too contemptible!" A third voice cut short his retort, a hail from above. "Hello, down there!" With a start Sally looked up. Her window was alight again, and somebody was leaning head and shoulders out. "Hello, I say! Is that the Manwaring woman '? Stop her; she's escaping arrest!" Trego barred the way to the gardens; and that was as well (she thought in a flash) for now the only hope for her was to lose herself temporarily in the shadows of the shrubbery. The thought of the trees that stood between the grounds and the highway was vaguely in her mind with its invitation to shelter when she turned and darted like a hunted rabbit around the corner of the house. Before Trego regained sight of her she was on the lawns. Crossing them like the shadow of a wind-sped cloud, she darted into the obscurity of the trees and vanished. And Mr. Trego, observing Mr. Lyttleton emerge from under the porte-cochere and start in pursuit, paused long enough deftly to trip up that gentleman with all the good will imaginable and sent him sprawling.