Of Adele I
refused resolutely to think. I knew very well that I should not be able
to forget her. On the other hand, I was convinced now that she was simply
making use of me. I would go back home and forget these two days. I would
reckon them as belonging to some one else's life, not mine.
I paid my bill, left the hotel, and caught the five o'clock train from
St. Pancras to Medchester. From there I had a ten-mile drive, and it
was almost dusk when we turned off the main road into the private
approach to Saxby Hall--my old home. Every yard of the land around, half
meadow-land, half park, I knew almost by heart; every corner and chimney
of the long irregular house was familiar to me. It all looked very
peaceful as we drove up to the front; the blue smoke from the chimneys
going straight up in a long, thin line; not a rustle of breeze or
movement anywhere. Perkins, my butler, came out to the steps to meet me,
and successfully concealed his surprise at my return two days before I
was expected.
"Any news, Perkins?" I inquired, as he helped me off with my coat.
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