Perkiss had appointed for lunch
at the inn was approaching. She rose, and began to make her way thither.
The street was crowded, and her progress was slow. A motor was threading
its way through the throng at a snail's pace. The persistence of its
horn attracted her attention. As it neared her she glanced at its
occupant.
The next moment she was shrinking back into a doorway, white to the
lips. The man in the car was Dinghra.
Across the crowded pavement his eyes sought hers, and the wicked triumph
in them turned her cold. He made no sign of recognition, and she seemed
as though petrified till the motor had slowly passed.
Then a great weakness came over her, and for a few seconds all
consciousness of her surroundings went from her. She remembered only
those evil eyes and the gloating satisfaction with which they had rested
upon her.
"Ain't you well, miss?" said a voice.
With a start she found a burly young farmer beside her. He looked down
at her with kindly concern.
"You take my arm," he said. "Which way do you want to go?"
With an effort she told him, and the next moment he was leading her
rapidly through the crowd.
They reached the inn, and he put her into the bar parlour and went out,
bellowing for Mrs. Perkiss, whom he knew.
When he finally emerged, after finding the miller's wife, a slim, dark
man was waiting on the further side of the road.
Pages:
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300