“This is all madness,” she declared wearily. There were two. "Troth, and so did you," returned the watchman; "but I couldn't belave it. So I asks the maid a few questions like, and it seems it ain’t Mister Charvill they’re going to visit again, but General Charvill. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. The cart, meantime, had approached the fatal tree. Then she examined with curiosity some knick-knacks upon a small round table by her side. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. While he was swinging in mid air, Thames regarded his uncle with a stern look, and cried in a menacing voice, "We shall meet again.
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