Only a glimmer of starlight
enabled him to pick out the course of a pebbled footpath. A border of deep
turf between this and the wall muffled his footsteps as he moved toward the
back of the house.
The library windows, deeply recessed, opened on a low, broad stoop of
concrete, with a pergola effect above, and a few wicker pieces upon a grass
mat underfoot.
Noiselessly Lanyard stepped across the low sill and paused in the cover of
heavy draperies, commanding a tolerably full view of the library if one
somewhat unsatisfactory, since the light within was by no means bright.
Still, this circumstance had its advantages for him; with his dark topcoat
buttoned to the throat and its collar turned up to hide his linen, he was
confident he would not be detected unless he gave his presence away by an
abrupt movement--something which the Lone Wolf never made.
At the moment Mr. Blensop seemed to be engaged in the surprising occupation
of discoursing upon art to his caller.
The latter occupied that chair which Lanyard had refused, on the far side
of the table.
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