"
"Everyone has poisoned my mind against you," she returned, "and yourself
most of all. I know you will try to injure Mr. Ingolby; and I know that
you will try to injure me; but you will not succeed."
She turned and moved away from him quickly, taking the path towards her
own front door. He called something after her, but she did not or would
not hear.
As she entered the open space in front of the house, she heard footsteps
behind her and turned quickly, not without apprehension. A woman came
hurrying towards her. She was pale, agitated, haggard with fatigue.
"May I speak with you?" she asked in French. "Surely," replied Fleda.
CHAPTER XV
THE WOMAN FROM WIND RIVER
"What is it?" asked Fleda, opening the door of the house.
"I want to speak to you about m'sieu'," replied the sad-faced woman. She
made a motion of her head backwards towards the wood. "About M'sieu'
Marchand."
Fleda's face hardened; she had had more than enough of "M'sieu'
Marchand." She was bitterly ashamed that she had, even for a moment,
thought of using diplomacy with him. But this woman's face was so
forlorn, apart, and lonely, that the old spirit of the Open Road worked
its will. In far-off days she had never seen a human being turned away
from a Romany tent, or driven from a Romany camp.
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