So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. ‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. The buboes broke and God took Lucia's mother. " "Not quite, I hope," rejoined Sheppard. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. .
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