"
She bent over and stroked the terrier, who always seemed uneasy under
her caress, and her hand touched Stafford's. She glanced at him as it
did so, but the white hand so soft and warm might have been a piece of
senseless wood for all its effect upon him whose soul was still
thrilling with Ida Heron's touch; and with a tightening of the lips,
she took her hand away and leant back, but her eyes still clung to him,
as, all unconscious, he bent over the dog.
At that moment a carriage drove up, and Mr. Falconer alighted. He came
up the steps, his heavy face grave and yet alert; and his keen eyes
glanced at the pair as they sat side by side. Stafford looked up and
nodded.
"Glad to see you back, Mr. Falconer," he said, pleasantly. "Stands
London where it did?"
"Pretty much so, yes," responded Mr. Falconer, grimly. "Yes, plenty of
other thing change, have their day and cease to be, but the little
village keeps its end up and sees things--and men--come and go, flare
up, flicker and fizzle out. No, thanks; I'll have some tea in my room."
"And like a dutiful daughter, I will go and pour it out for him," said
Maude.
Pages:
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313