It was a still, moonlight night, and Edith was sitting at the library window looking out into the garden. The clock had struck nine and Harold had not returned. She wondered what he could have to do with Jesse Crowle, and why he must go there before he could see her. "Perhaps," she meditated, "he has gone to meet Gallagher at Minara. He is a friend of Jesse Crowle's, and is often there. A quarter past--what can be keeping him? That sounded like the gate latch. Yes, here he comes!" She drew the window blinds down, and went to the door. Harold entered the next minute with some papers in his hands.
"What a time you have been!" she remarked.
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