"You came home in a cab, Philip, did you not? I thought I heard one
stop."
"Yes; it is a miserable evening. Raining fast now."
"Raining!" she repeated, rather wondering to hear it was not snowing.
She went to the window to look out, and the first object her eyes caught
sight of was the woman; leaning in the old place against the railings,
in the growing dusk.
"I'm not sorry to see the rain; we shall have it warmer now," remarked
Mr. Hamlyn, who had drawn a chair to the fire. "In fact, it's much
warmer already than it was this morning."
"Philip, step here a minute."
His wife's tone had dropped to a half-whisper, sounding rather
mysterious, and he went at once.
"Just look, Philip--opposite. Do you see a woman standing there?"
"A woman--where?" cried he, looking of course in every direction but the
right one.
"Just facing us. She has her back against the railings."
"Oh, ay, I see now; a lady in a cloak. She must be waiting for someone."
"Why do you call her a lady?"
"She looks like one--as far as I can see in the gloom. Does she not? Her
hair does, any way."
"She has been there I cannot tell you how long, Philip; half-an-hour,
I'm sure; and it seems to me that she is _watching_ this house.
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