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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"The Swindler and Other Stories"

At least, that is the sort of feeling I have about her."
Again, but more gradually, the colour rose in her face. She took up her
basket, and began to unpack it.
Carfax turned fully round.
"You go in for character-study," he said.
"A little," she owned. "I can't help it. Now let me give you some tea. I
have enough for two."
"I shall be delighted," he said courteously. "Let me help you to
unpack."
Priscilla could never recall afterwards how they spent the golden hours
till six o'clock. She was as one in a dream, to which she clung closely,
passionately, fearing to awake. For in her dream she was standing on the
threshold of her paradise, waiting for the opening of the gates.


IV
ON THE THRESHOLD

Raffold Abbey was huge and rambling, girt with many memories. They spent
nearly two hours wandering through the house and the old, crumbling
chapel.
"There is a crypt below," Priscilla said, "but we can't go down without
a lantern. Another day, if you cared----"
"Of course I should, above all things," declared Carfax. "I was just
going to ask when I might come again."
Their intimacy had progressed wonderfully during those hours of
companionship. The total absence of conventionality had destroyed all
strangeness between them. They were as children on a holiday, enjoying
the present to the full, and wholly careless of the future.
Not till Carfax had at length taken his leave did Priscilla ask herself
what had brought him there.


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