"I've always heard that villages were far more
wicked places than towns, and now I know it's true!"
"Steady on," he said smiling, "forgive me for having repeated a silly bit
of gossip. But, after all, what you said just now is quite true--I am
your oldest friend by a long way, and so I feel I ought to give you a
word of warning. I do think the poor boy _is_ very fond of you, eh?"
Enid Crofton put out her hand and took his in hers. She squeezed it
convulsively. "I feel so miserable," she sobbed, "so miserable and
lonely!"
"Do you, dear--" And then they both started violently, and Radmore moved
his chair away with a quick movement, for the door behind them had swung
open, and Jack Tosswill, quite unaware of the other man's presence, came
through it, and at once began speaking eagerly, excitedly, in a voice so
unlike his usual "home" voice that Radmore hardly recognised it:--
"I'm so glad you're downstairs. I came this morning I hope you got
my--" and then he saw the other man, and checked himself abruptly.
He had given the beloved woman he regarded as his future wife, his most
solemn word of honour that no one should suspect that they were more than
mere acquaintances.
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