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Half A Chance by Frederic S. Isham
page 243 of 258 (94%)
long? The small boat, with sail at the bow and plodding oar at stern, at
length drew out of sight; the paper made itself felt in her warm palm.
Why did not her uncle return? He had been gone some time now; what--what
could detain him?

"Can you drop in at my chambers for a few minutes?" John Steele had
written. "A few minutes;" the blue eyes shone with impatience. He was
leaving London, Captain Forsythe had informed her; and, she concluded,
he wanted to see her uncle before he left. But not her, no; she had
driven there, however, with Sir Charles, on some light pretext--for want
of something better to do--to be out in the air--

"I'll wait here in the cab," she had said to her uncle, when he had left
it before John Steele's dwelling. "At least," meeting the puzzled gaze
that had rested on her more than once lately, "I may, or may not wait.
If I get tired--if when you come back, you don't find me, just
conclude," capriciously, "I have gone on some little errand of my own.
Shopping, perhaps."

"Jocelyn!" he had said, momentarily held by her eyes, her feverish
manner. "There is something wrong, isn't there? Hasn't the time come
yet, to tell?"

"Something wrong? What nonsense!" she had laughed.

She recalled these words now, found it intolerable to sit still.
Abruptly she rose and stepped from the cab.

"My uncle is gone a long while," she said to the man, up behind.

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