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Greyes and Miss Fritten had missed the 2.18 to Town, and as there was not another train till 3.12 they thought that they might as well make their grocery purchases at Scarrick's. It would not be sensational, they agreed, but it would still be shopping.

What for did you fritten it? Reddin was indignant. Seeing Hazel wandering thus so near his own domain, he thought she had come in the hope of seeing him. He also thought that the strangeness of her dress was an effort to attract him. To the pure all things are pure. 'But you surely wanted to see me? Wasn't that why you came? he asked. 'No, it wasna.

"I think the cave must be quite four miles away; right out past Fritten Ring and the long barrow, you know, and I fancy poor Desdemona must have had quite a family, because, besides the one dead pup close to the cave, I saw several little skeletons; quite a lot of animal remains scattered about pieces of rabbit and the remains of another fox besides the one Finn killed.

'Why didn't I? Good God! To think I suffered and renounced for this! He laughed. 'And all so simple! Just throw you in the bracken. She shuddered at the knife-edge in his voice, and also at the new realization that broke on her that Edward had it in him to be like Reddin. 'What for do you fritten me? she whispered.

Scarrick had quite recently presided at a lecture on Savonarola. Turning up the deep astrachan collar of his long coat, the stranger swept out of the shop, with the air, Miss Fritten afterwards described it, of a Satrap proroguing a Sanhedrim.

In a voice that was heard all over the shop, perhaps because everybody was intently listening, he asked for a pound of honey and a packet of quail seed. "More quail seed!" said Miss Fritten. "Those quails must be voracious, or else it isn't quail seed at all." "I believe it's opium, and the bearded man is a detective," said Mrs. Greyes brilliantly.

"I don't," said Laura Lipping; "I'm sure it's something to do with the Portuguese Throne." "More likely to be a Persian intrigue on behalf of the ex-Shah," said Miss Fritten; "the bearded man belongs to the Government Party. The quail-seed is a countersign, of course; Persia is almost next door to Palestine, and quails come into the Old Testament, you know."

Greyes and Miss Fritten looked round triumphantly at their friends. It was, of course, deplorable that any one should treat the truth as an article temporarily and excusably out of stock, but they felt gratified that the vivid accounts they had given of Mr. Scarrick's traffic in falsehoods should receive confirmation at first hand.

"We might be living in the Arabian Nights," said Miss Fritten, excitedly. "Hush! Listen," beseeched Mrs. Greyes. "Has the dark-faced boy, of whom I spoke yesterday, been here to-day?" asked the stranger. "We've had rather more people than usual in the shop to-day," said Mr. Scarrick, "but I can't recall a boy such as you describe." Mrs.