‘I’ll get the key,’ said Roding, turning abruptly. “It’s very good,” she said. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. The one through which she had come and Gosse had entered behind her. ’ She shuddered, throwing her hands over her face. A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind. " "You hear that," whispered Jack. Bribble’s rendering of the service —he had the sort of voice that brings out things—and was still teeming with ideas about it when finally a wild outburst from the organ made it clear that, whatever snivelling there might be down in the chancel, that excellent wind instrument was, in its Mendelssohnian way, as glad as ever it could be. “Yet it is my last evening, and I think —if you are sure that you would like to have me—that I will risk it.
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