Before he had extracted all the contents of the bag she was back
again, once more clinging, clutching, and impeding. He did not strike
her again--merely shook her off so violently that she fell to the
floor, where she lay for a moment.
In the inner pockets of the bag there were three five-pound notes,
together with a tooth-brush and several small articles wrapped up in
paper. These he laid on one side, while he carefully examined all the
odds and ends that had been packed loose in the bag. Three or four
pocket-handkerchiefs, a new piece of scented soap, a pair of
nail-scissors--as he looked at each innocent article, he gave a snort.
She had come back, but she had not risen from the ground; while he
slowly pursued his investigations she kept quite still, crouching
close to his legs, silently waiting.
She could not see what he was doing, but presently she knew that he
had begun to unfold the paper from the things she had hidden in the
pocket.
"Ah," and he snorted. One of the bits of paper held hairpins; another
a side-comb; and another, a bit of trebly folded paper, proved to be
an envelope--the envelope of one of the letters that he had sent to
her at North Ride Cottage. He looked at the postmark.
Pages:
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119