” Nigel Ennison looked up with a little start. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. Fortescue, with a bow. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. " The thief-taker's residence was a large dismal-looking, habitation, separated from the street by a flagged court-yard, and defended from general approach by an iron railing. She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. To her chagrin, he ignored her, and turned a venomous eye on his betrothed. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. “Go from me, husband!” With a flourish he brought her arms behind her and her body was slammed to the floor. She was drawn first by Miss Miniver, and then by her own natural interest, into a curious stratum of people who are busied with dreams of world progress, of great and fundamental changes, of a New Age that is to replace all the stresses and disorders of contemporary life.
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