DARK HESTER
tring along the roadside, and there, beyond them, was the oblong bulk of the Manor Farm just visible, with chinks of light along its lower windows and a dim orange fan of light laid above its door. He was still up; of course; he was leaving early to-morrow and would have much to do; but it struck her, as she opened the gate so softly, that with all her intrepidity she would have been disconcerted had the house been unlighted. Softly she opened the gate and softly stole across the lawn, her hands out-stretched till they touched the window-sill. Then she stood still for a moment and, for that one moment, a dart of wonder at herself went through her, almost as if she woke from a somnambulist dream to find herself strangely astray. But no, this was herself; she had meant to come and her friend would not misunderstand her.
She lifted her hand and tapped softly three times. There was no sound, no movement. The chink of light close there before her remained unaltered. She tapped again, three times, lightly, insistently. Then a heavy muffled sound answered her, a sound of incredulous haste, a thrust-back chair, a table toppling, tottering.—The curtains were flung aside, he was there, before her, against the lighted room. Her face looked in at him through the pane, and for one
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