It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully. She had worn a long skirt that morning, and a roomier sweater that was slightly easier to handle than Shari’s low cut numbers. All emotions laid hold of him, but none could he stay long enough to analyze it. A few bricks, dislodged probably by his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room. With this view, he descended the hill and presently found a footpath leading to the church. ’ ‘Oh, a ruin,’ exclaimed Mrs Sindlesham, throwing up a hand. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes.
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