The flicker of an eyelash might betray his presence. He could not promise that she would ever appear again in that house. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. On the stranger's appearance, she was seated near the window busily occupied with her needle. ‘Of course the fellow has doubtless stayed put to wait for you,’ retorted Hilary. “It was just an hour before teatime,” she remarked.
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