“You’ll be there, right?” She asked, hearing his breathing audibly jump. You must let me do whatever I can for you. I watched you wait at the farmhouse! But I couldn’t compromise your safety! You must have realized that!” She lowered her voice to a loud whisper. But some little distance behind him, someone had come out from the shadow of the building and, seeing the Frenchman reappear, darted back again as quickly. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. The Vorsack house bore the stamp of Diane in every visible spot. Wood started to his feet. " "Here!" ejaculated Wood, with a look of alarm.
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