"I'm glad you came to me at East Grinstead," said Tony, a little embarrassed by the long pause. "You see, mother never got my postcard, so no wonder there wasn't any one to meet me." "I'm glad I was any use." He spoke stiffly, in a mortal fear lest, for some reason unspecified, her attitude of fragrant ignorance should collapse. "Do you live near here?" she asked naïvely. He hesitated. "Not very." "I do--quite near. I think I must be going home now." She held out her hand to say good-bye, when suddenly a shrill wailing scream rose from the field outside the wood. "Oh!" cried Tony. They both turned and listened, their hands still clasped. The next minute it came again--shrill, frantic. "What is it?" asked the girl, shuddering, "it sounds just like a baby." "I think it's a rabbit--perhaps it's caught in a trap." He left hold of her hand and looked over the hedge. The next minute he sprang into it, forcing his way through, while she stared after him with troubled eyes. "Yes, it's a rabbit," he cried thickly, "caught in one of those spring traps, poor little devil!" She scrambled after him into the field. "Oh, let it out!--poor little thing!--oh, save it!" But he was already struggling with the trap, and she saw blood on his hands where the teeth had caught them. "I'll do it, never fear," he muttered, grinding his teeth. "Can you hold the poor little chap?--He'll hurt himself worse than ever if he struggles so." She grasped the soft mass of fur, damp and draggled with its agony, while Nigel tried to prise open the steel jaws. "There!" The rabbit bounded out of the trap, but the next minute fell down struggling. "It's leg's broken," cried Nigel. "Poor little beast!--what a damned infernal shame!" He picked it up tenderly. "Hadn't you better destroy it?" asked Tony, gulping her tears. "I think perhaps I had--look the other way." She moved off a few steps, and heard nothing till Nigel said, "Poor little beggar!" He came up to her, holding the dead rabbit by its ears. "That's all you're good for when you've been in a trap--to die. Being in a trap breaks parts of you that can never be mended. It's always kind to kill broken things." He stood hesitating a moment, then suddenly he flushed awkwardly, pulled off his cap and turned away. Tony stared after him. She saw him go with bowed head across the field. Half way he dropped the rabbit, but he did not stop. He walked straight to the fence, and climbed over it into the lane. An impulse seized her--she could not account for it, but she suddenly turned to follow him. She wanted to thank him again, perhaps--to ask him something, she scarcely knew what. But he was gone. There was only the dead rabbit, lying still warm in the grass. CHAPTER VII OVER THE GATES OF PARADISE