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Jacobs, W. W., 1863-1943

"Dialstone Lane, Complete"


Sprawling comfortably in the chair he lit his pipe, his ear on the alert
to catch the slightest sound of the captive in the cask above. The warm
air was laden with the scent of flowers, and nothing stirred with the
exception of Mr. Tasker's shadow on the blind of the kitchen window. The
clock in the neighbouring church chimed the three-quarters, and in due
time boomed out the hour of ten. Mr. Tredgold knocked the ashes from his
pipe and began seriously to consider his position. Lights went out in
the next house. Huge shadows appeared on the kitchen blind and the light
gradually faded, to reappear triumphantly in the room above. Anon the
shadow of Mr. Tasker's head was seen wrestling fiercely with its back
collar-stud.
"Mr. Tredgold!" said a sharp voice from above.
[Illustration: "'Mr. Tredgold!' said a sharp voice from above."]
Mr. Tredgold sprang to his feet, overturning the chair in his haste, and
gazed aloft.
"Miss Drewitt!" he cried, in accents of intense surprise.
"I am coming down," said the voice.
"Pray be careful," said Mr. Tredgold, anxiously; "it is very dark. Can I
help you?"
"Yes--you can go indoors," said Miss Drewitt.


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