“I was lonely. "There is Dollis Hill," said the man, pointing to a well-wooded eminence about a mile distant, "and there," he added, indicating the roof of a house just visible above a grove of trees "is Mr. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. ToC The tragical affair at Dollis Hill, it need scarcely be said, was a dreadful blow to the family. ' That's your signal. ’ Melusine hesitated.
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