Later, as I sauntered toward the Tudor garden, where I had hoped to
encounter Miss Beverley, I heard the clicking of billiard balls; and
there was Harley at the table, practising fancy shots.
He glanced up at me as I paused by the open window, stopped to relight
his pipe, and then bent over the table again.
"Leave me alone, Knox," he muttered; "I am not fit for human society."
Understanding his moods as well as I did, I merely laughed and
withdrew.
I strolled around into the library and inspected scores of books
without forming any definite impression of the contents of any of them.
Manoel came in whilst I was there and I was strongly tempted to send a
message to Miss Beverley, but common sense overcame the inclination.
When at last my watch told me that the hour for dressing was arrived, I
heaved a sigh of relief. I cannot say that I was bored, my ill-temper
sprang from a deeper source than this. The mysterious disappearance of
the inmates of Cray's Folly, and a sort of brooding stillness which lay
over the great house, had utterly oppressed me.
As I passed along the terrace I paused to admire the spectacle afforded
by the setting sun.
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