But when she saw him again
on the day after their safe return to Trelevan there was nothing in his
demeanour to remind her of the stress through which they had passed. He
was, as ever, perfectly calm and self-contained, and wholly
uncommunicative. Adela sought in vain to satisfy her curiosity as to the
happenings in Barren Valley which her courage had not permitted her to
witness for herself. Fletcher Hill was as a closed book, and on some
points Dot was equally reticent. By no persuasion could Adela induce her
to speak of Bill Warden. She turned the subject whenever it approached
him, professing an ignorance which Adela found excessively provoking.
They saw nothing of him during the remainder of the week, and very
little of Fletcher Hill, who went to and fro upon his business with a
machine-like precision that seemed to pervade his every action. He made
no attempt to be alone with Dot, and she, with a shyness almost
overwhelming, thankfully accepted his forbearance. The day they had fixed
upon for their marriage was rapidly approaching, but she had almost
ceased to contemplate it, for somehow it seemed to her that it could
never dawn. Something must happen first! Surely something was about to
happen! And from day to day she lived for the sight of Bill Warden's
great figure and the sound of his steady voice. Anything, she felt, would
be bearable if only she could see him once again.
Pages:
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125