There was no answer, only a slight rustle.
"Where is it?" he repeated impatiently.
Her unexpected breath was on his cheek.
"In my hands."
"Capital! Listen, Lena. As soon as I leave the bungalow with that
horrible scoundrel, you slip out at the back--instantly, lose no
time!--and run round into the forest. That will be your time, while we
are walking away, and I am sure he won't give me the slip. Run into the
forest behind the fringe of bushes between the big trees. You will know,
surely, how to find a place in full view of the front door. I fear for
you; but in this black dress, with most of your face muffled up in that
dark veil, I defy anybody to find you there before daylight. Wait in the
forest till the table is pushed into full view of the doorway, and you
see three candles out of four blown out and one relighted--or, should
the lights be put out here while you watch them, wait till three candles
are lighted and then two put out. At either of these signals run back as
hard as you can, for it will mean that I am waiting for you here."
While he was speaking, the girl had sought and seized one of his
hands. She did not press it; she held it loosely, as it were timidly,
caressingly. It was no grasp; it was a mere contact, as if only to make
sure that he was there, that he was real and no mere darker shadow in
the obscurity.
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