” He left the room, and she stood motionless, with flaming cheeks, listening to his retreating footsteps. One day she desisted from her search and went unexpectedly to the Tredgold College. Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. “Not only that,” he answered. Bounding the corner of a garden wall, he came upon his former place of imprisonment. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. So far the thing was acceptable enough. . She felt surges of longing escape every corner of her flesh. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers.
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