He took a
long time to do this, and when he had finished his hand instinctively
went towards a breast pocket where he kept a note-book with little
squared pages. Then he stopped and sighed. After all, why argue with
the law? The law was like that--an excellent thing, not infallible, of
course (even the plan of the Lord Chief justice was a quarter of a mile
out), but still an excellent, a wonderful thing. He examined the bony
knuckles of his hands and yawned slightly.
"Do you remember it?" said the Lord Chief justice.
Stephen nodded sagely, and his voice seemed to come from a long way
off:
"Yes, I remember it, my lord. It was a melancholy little street."
THE LOOKING GLASS
By J.D. BERESFORD
(From _The Cornhill Magazine_)
1921, 1922
This was the first communication that had come from her aunt in
Rachel's lifetime.
"I think your aunt has forgiven me, at last," her father said as he
passed the letter across the table.
Rachel looked first at the signature. It seemed strange to see her own
name there. It was as if her individuality, her very identity, was
impugned by the fact that there should be two Rachel Deanes.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63