The Mission of Poubalov — page 224: what you’re looking at

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

220 BEHIND CLOSED DOORS, together they hunted for a place from which she c oulk f keep her eyes on the old tavern, unobserved by Poubaloy, — should he return. . They found it in the sitting-room of a house across ee way, the mistress of which, a plain, practical woman who knew the woes of economy, was not averse to ren for a few hours the apartment she seldom had time to use, and never on a Monday. This done, Mike drove to Mr. Pembroke’s and hitched his horse at the gate, with its nose in a feed-bag. The young man made short work of the luncheon Louise prepared for him, and then promptly fell asleep over the” book she gave him to while away time with. No good end will be served by reviewing the lonely _ hours of Clara’s vigil. It was with her, as with Paul, a— monotonous period, far harder to endure, in some senses, — than the exciting and exacting experiences of the fore- — noon. ) It will be enough, then, to say that when Mike came mi the edge of the evening to tell her that her uncle was at — home, she had seen no sign of Poubaloy or Patterson, — or of life in the ancient tavern. Reluctantly she quitted her post, because nothing nad happened, willingly because she hoped for definite infor- mation of some kind from her uncle. The coupé was at the door, | ‘*Will you want me longer, miss?’’ asked Mike as shell came out, prepared to go home. ‘‘T suppose you ought to go,’’ answered Clara, doubt- — fully. ‘ ‘‘T dunno,’’ said Mike, in the same manner; ‘‘me boss > will be wonderin’ what’s become of the rig.”’ * The long day, spent so far as he could see to no purpose, — had tried him, and yet, had Clara said the word he would have remained in one spot through the night. Clara did not say it. ‘ She, too, was fatigued, not more with the oxertibtr ¢ tit + 1 4