"You have a very beautiful place here," he said, after a pause.
She turned and looked at the house in the dim light, with a touch of
pride in her dreamy eyes.
"Yes," she said, as if it were useless to deny the fact.
"It is very old, and I ma very fond--"
She stopped suddenly, her lips apart, her eyes fixed on the farther end
of the terrace; for while she had been speaking a figure, only just
perceptible in the semi-darkness, had moved slowly across the end of
the terrace, paused for a moment at the head of the flight of steps,
and then slowly descended.
Stafford also saw it, and glancing at her he saw that she was startled,
if not frightened. She scarcely seemed to breathe, and she turned her
large, dark eyes upon him questioningly, somewhat appealingly.
"What is that?" she said, in a whisper, more to herself than to him.
"Someone--a man has gone down the steps from the house," he said.
"Don't you know who it is?"
"No," she replied in as low a voice. "It is not Jason--there is no one
else--who can it be? I will go and see."
She moved towards the terrace, and Stafford said:
"I will come with you; you will let me?"
She did not refuse; indeed, she appeared to have forgotten his
presence: together they crossed the lawn and reached the corner of the
house near which the figure had disappeared.
Pages:
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75