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The Yellow House

Chapter 2 ON THE MOOR

Word Count: 1764    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

trolled up and down the drive. This restlessness was one of my greatest troubles. When the fit came I could neither work nor read nor think connectedly. It was a phase of incipient dissatisfactio

vied her. What a comfort to be blessed with a pl

d been enjoying yourself," I rem

to be without a hat, Kate? To look at your airy attire one would imagin

ed between my muslin gown and the plain black skirt and j

I am tired of being indoors. There have been people here all the afternoon. I wonder that your conscie

eyes and a concerned face. Alice

imed. I was in an evil mood, and I determined

n hour and a half of Lady Naselton. One gets so tired of one's own sex! Not a single man all t

and turned her head away w

that, Kate," she said, quietly. "Do

ed without looking around. She was the perfect type of a clergyman's daughter-studiously conventional, unremittingly proper, inevitably a little priggish. She was the righ

nd was moaning amongst the Norwegian firs. I leaned over the gate with my face turned towards the great indistinct front of Deville Court. There was nothing to look at. The trees had taken to themselves fantastic shapes, little wreaths of white mist were rising from the hollows of the

the house. Suddenly I heard an unexpected sound-the sound of voices close at hand.

adam! Get ov

ld see him more distinctly. He was tall and very broad, with a ragged beard and long hair. He wore no collar, and there was a great rent in his shabby shooting coat. Of his features I could see nothing. He wore knickerbockers, and stockings, and thick shoes. He was by no means an ordinary looking person, but he was certainly not prepossessing. The most favorable thing about him was his carriage, which was upright and easy, but even

, here, isn't there, Bruce? I fan

ient growl came

ng me. The parson was bound to come, I suppose, bu

m the woman-a plea

What a misogynist you are getting! Why shouldn't the man have da

of the laurels beneath which I was standing completely shielded me from observation. The man's huge form stood out with a

ve seen but one-a pale-f

in, and watched them vanish amongst the shadows. The sound of their voices came to me indistinctly; but I could hear the deep bass of the man as he slung some scornful exclamation o

faint groan. A single step, and I was bending over the prostrate form of a man. I caught his hand and gaz

e cold. Gathering up my skirts in my hand, I

randy!" I cried, breathlessly. "Fath

him. He had not moved. His cheeks were ghastly pale, and his eyes were

-at least I think not," I whispered

en his lips. Presently he opened his eyes, and rais

ough the shadows! Where is she? What have you done with her? T

f," I said, bending over him. "You must h

both of us, and the ligh

ed. "I remember the study was close, and I c

up. He was still white and shaken, b

I was tired too. I must have walked too far. I don't like i

ch had stirred him so deeply? I tried to laugh at the idea. I could not. His cry was so natural, his terror so apparent! He had heard a voice. He had been stricken with a sudden terror. Whose was the voice-whence his fear of it? I watched him leaning slightly upon Alice's arm, and walking on slowly in fro

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