Her Faithful Knight — page 205: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Honeymoon Journey. 201 form she quickly drew down all the blinds, then seating herself by the window she bent her head forward in order to give any passing railway official the impression that she was listening to the talk of some one facing her. Then, just as the train began to move out of the station, she sprang out on the platform. “TI find I shall have to go back to London, after all,” she said in quiet, composed tones to the porter wae: hur- ried up. “How soon can I get there?’ “Tondon? ‘There is no train to London but the night mail, at 7.32, miss, and it don’t reach Paddington until four in the morning.” Dorothy looked at the station clock. It was ten min- utes to five. Two hours and forty minutes had to be passed before there was any hope of leaving Liskeard, and all her life through she had reason to remember those hours of waiting. Like an ugly dream it all seemed when she afterward recalled it—the long wandering on weary feet throughout a stifling summer evening, the dull market town, the rough comment of the miners’ wives and children on her smart clothes and strange appearance, comments which drove her out past the gray stone houses to moorland and fields, beyond which the outline of the Carradon Hills stood out dark against the evening sky. At a quarter past seven, hot, tired, footsore and miser- able, she crept into the station, took her ticket, and waited for the London train. Concerning Darcy’s fate she knew and heard nothing, and not a sign was given at the sta- tion to lead her to suppose that anything unusual had oc- curred. No one expected the bridal pair at Penzance, therefore their absence might not be noticed, and, in any case, the mail by which she was to travel to London would leave Penzance long before the arrival of the Plymouth _ <S (E(0) we oe Te!