This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

THE WOOD WALK

fantastic silhouetted mass of branches, a shadow as of a horse in the sky.

He came to the corner of the house and paused, aimless. He had a sense of losing his hold on the situation. He understood that Rader was a man guarded, both by his isolation at the end of that long passage, and by the vigilance of his straightly-inquiring wife. Furthermore, in this flat mood of the morning, it might be that seeing Rader would do no good at all. No doubt Rader regretted urging him to stay; and was at a loss to know how to make good his random promise of a companion. Practical application of ideas was evidently not the scholar's strong point.

He heard his name called. The voice came from over his head. He raised his eyes. The windows of his room were above him, all opened wide, with curtains drawn back. The flight of outside steps was near to where he stood, and, leaning on the wooden rail of the little balcony, Blanche Rader was looking down upon him. She had a cloth in her hand as if she had been dusting, and a cloth tied over her head. With her hair covered by this trying bandage, all in her face that had passed unnoticed or not been noticed enough started out at him. Her eyes showed bluer, larger, and her eyebrows became a beauty. He saw that her nose

71