第121章

TheladappearedinthefrontgardendepartingtoperformhiserrandtoLondon。Geoffreywentwithhimtoopenthegate，andcalledafterhim，ashepassedthroughit，“Don’tforgetthebooks!“

The“books？“What“books？“Whowantedthem？TheslightestthingnowrousedAnne’ssuspicion。Forhoursafterwardthebookshauntedhermind。

Hesecuredthegateandcamebackagain。HestoppedunderAnne’swindowandcalledtoher。Sheshowedherself。“Whenyouwantairandexercise，“hesaid，“thebackgardenisatyourowndisposal。“Heputthekeyofthegateinhispocketandreturnedtothehouse。

AftersomehesitationAnnedecidedontakinghimathisword。Inherstateofsuspense，toremainwithinthefourwallsofthebedroomwasunendurable。Ifsomelurkingsnarelayhidunderthefair-soundingproposalwhichGeoffreyhadmade，itwaslessrepellenttoherboldlytoprovewhatitmightbethantowaitponderingoveritwithhermindinthedark。Sheputonherhatandwentdownintothegarden。Nothinghappenedoutofthecommon。Whereverhewashenevershowedhimself。Shewanderedupanddown，keepingonthesideofthegardenwhichwasfarthestfromthedining-roomwindow。Toawoman，escapefromtheplacewassimplyimpossible。Settingoutofthequestiontheheightofthewalls，theywerearmedatthetopwithathicksettingofjaggedbrokenglass。Asmallback-doorintheendwall(intendedprobablyforthegardener’suse)wasboltedandlocked——thekeyhavingbeentakenout。Therewasnotahousenear。Thelandsofthelocalgrowersofvegetablessurroundedthegardenonallsides。Inthenineteenthcentury，andintheimmediateneighborhoodofagreatmetropolis，Annewasasabsolutelyisolatedfromallcontactwiththehumanityaroundherasifshelayinhergrave。

Afterthelapseofhalfanhourthesilencewasbrokenbyanoiseofcarriagewheelsonthepublicroadinfront，andaringatthebell。Annekeptclosetothecottage，attheback；determined，ifachanceoffered，onspeakingtothevisitor，whoeverthevisitormightbe。

Sheheardvoicesinthedining-roomthroughtheopenwindow——Geoffrey’svoiceandthevoiceofawoman。Whowasthewoman？NotMrs。Glenarm，surely？Afterawhilethevisitor’svoicewassuddenlyraised。“Whereisshe？“itsaid。“Iwishtoseeher。“Anneinstantlyadvancedtotheback-doorofthehouse——andfoundherselffacetofacewithaladywhowasatotalstrangertoher。

“Areyoumyson’swife？“askedthelady。

“Iamyourson’sprisoner，“Anneanswered。

LadyHolchester’spalefaceturnedpalerstill。ItwasplainthatAnne’sreplyhadconfirmedsomedoubtinthemothersmindwhichhadbeenalreadysuggestedtoitbytheson。

“Whatdoyoumean？“sheasked，inawhisper。

Geoffrey’sh