We've got two relics
of Mr. Smith at least; his fiancee and his trunk."
"Why do you want us to go inside?" asked Arthur Inglewood,
in whose red brow and rough brown hair botheration seemed
to have reached its limit.
"I want the rest to go in," said Michael in a clear voice,
"because I want the whole of this garden in which to talk to you."
There was an atmosphere of irrational doubt; it was really getting colder,
and a night wind had begun to wave the one or two trees in the twilight.
Dr. Warner, however, spoke in a voice devoid of indecision.
"I refuse to listen to any such proposal," he said; "you have lost
this ruffian, and I must find him."
"I don't ask you to listen to any proposal," answered Moon quietly;
"I only ask you to listen."
He made a silencing movement with his hand, and immediately
the whistling noise that had been lost in the dark streets on one side
of the house could be heard from quite a new quarter on the other side.
Through the night-maze of streets the noise increased with incredible
rapidity, and the next moment the flying hoofs and flashing wheels had
swept up to the blue-railed gate at which they had originally stood.
Mr. Smith got down from his perch with an air of absent-mindedness,
and coming back into the garden stood in the same elephantine
attitude as before.
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