Captivating Mary Carstairs by Henry Sydnor Harrison
page 64 of 347 (18%)
page 64 of 347 (18%)
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repressed a laugh.
An hour ago he had been lounging at peace upon the yacht, looking forward to nothing more titillating than bed at the earliest respectable hour. Now he was sitting with a strange lady of uncertain age in an unlighted cottage on a lonely country road, while a howling thunderstorm raved outside imprisoning him for nobody could say how long. In the interval between these two extremes, he had discovered that he was a "double," been threatened with violence, hopelessly lost Peter, and found Mary Carstairs. Surely and in truth, a pretty active hour's work! On the tin roof of the cottage the rain beat a wild tattoo. Within, the silence lengthened. Under the circumstances, Varney considered reserve on the lady's part not unnatural; but a little talk, as he viewed the matter, would tend to help the dreary evening through. He cleared his throat for due notice and began with a laugh. "I was industriously chasing two men from town when the storm caught me. You know what I mean--not drumming them out of the city, but merely pursuing them in this general direction. I wonder if by any chance you happened to pass them on the road?" "N-no, I believe not." "A very small man, very well-dressed, and a very large man, very badly dressed, wearing a kind of curious, rococo straw hat. I know," he mused, "that you could not have forgotten that hat. Once seen--" "Oh!" she exclaimed with sudden evidences of interest--"do tell me--is |
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