He waited grimly, and watched. At last Miriam let the bird peck from her hand. She gave a little cry — fear, and pain because of fear — rather pathetic. But she had done it, and she did it again.
“There, you see,” said the boy. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”
She looked at him with dilated dark eyes.
“No,” she laughed, trembling.
Then she rose and went indoors. She seemed to be in some way resentful of the boy.
“He thinks I’m only a common girl,” she thought, and she wanted to prove she was a grand person like the “Lady of the Lake”.