Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. ’ ‘She behaved like a madwoman,’ Hilary declared roundly. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. Another long interval elapsed. Little things, almost impalpable, had happened to justify that doubt; something in his manner had belied his words. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. “Hello, Teddy!” she answered. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way.
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