THE HERMIT OF FAR END

By Margaret Pedler


First Published 1920.




PROLOGUE

It was very quiet within the little room perched high up under the
roof of Wallater's Buildings. Even the glowing logs in the grate burned
tranquilly, without any of those brisk cracklings and sputterings which
make such cheerful company of a fire, while the distant roar of London's
traffic came murmuringly, dulled to a gentle monotone by the honeycomb
of narrow side streets that intervened between the gaunt, red-brick
Buildings and the bustling highways of the city.

It seemed almost as though the little room were waiting for
something--some one, just as the woman seated in the low chair at the
hearthside was waiting.

She sat very still, looking towards the door, her folded hands lying
quietly on her knees in an attitude of patient expectancy. It was as if,
although she found the waiting long and wearisome, she were yet quite
sure she would not have to wait in vain.

Once she bent forward and touched the little finger of her left hand,