She shrugged her shoulders, with a little movement like Nastasia's, and
rejoined in a lighter tone: "Shall we walk on? I'm so cold after the
sermon. And what does it matter, now you're here to protect me?"
The blood rose to his temples and he caught a fold of her cloak.
"Ellen--what is it? You must tell me."
"Oh, presently--let's run a race first: my feet are freezing to the
ground," she cried; and gathering up the cloak she fled away across
the snow, the dog leaping about her with challenging barks. For a
moment Archer stood watching, his gaze delighted by the flash of the
red meteor against the snow; then he started after her, and they met,
panting and laughing, at a wicket that led into the park.