To-night she could have hugged both the old maids. Ever since the young police officer had arrived on her doorstep the clock had started ticking faster. He was waiting in the outer hall as she tiptoed in. He had, he felt, to create certain ideas and vivify certain curiosities and feelings in her. Or did he? Perhaps he had found another. Drummond was telling me about the way old Ferringhall rounded upon them all at the club. “You may go on with that work,” he said, “so long as you keep in harmony with things at home.
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