"Well, so long, if I don't see you before nine. You look out for old
Mr. Van Truder, will you? See that he sneaks out properly. And--"
"Don't worry, old chap. Go to Miss Thursdale. She seems nervous."
CHAPTER VI
THE ROAD TO PARADISE
Night again--and again the mist and the drizzle; again the country
lane, but without the warm club-house fire, the cheery lights, the
highball, and the thumping motor car. Soggy, squashy mud instead of
the clean tonneau; heavy, cruel wading through unknown by-ways in
place of the thrilling rush to Fenlock. Not twenty-four hours had
passed, and yet it seemed that ages lay between the joyous midnight
and the sodden, heart-breaking eve that followed.
The guests at the Somerset kept close indoors,--that is, most of them
did. It is with those who fared forth resolutely into the night that
we have to do; the rest of the world is to be barred from any further
connection with this little history. It is far out in the dreary
country lane and not inside the warm hotel that we struggle to attain
our end. First one, then another stealthy figure crept forth into the
drizzle; before the big clock struck half-past eight, at least six
respectable and supposedly sensible persons had mysteriously
disappeared.
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