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Updated: May 10, 2025
"You are coming over to sleep, child," Ellen said, as the time for departure arrived, and Charlotte showed signs of closing up her small domain. "Not at all. I mean to have the fun of spending my first night in my new home," Miss Ruston declared, and held to her decision, in spite of the arguments and entreaties of the women and the assertions of the men that she would be afraid.
He saw no reason why he should not ask a question or two. Asking questions was a part of his profession. "I hope you've managed to coax him before your camera. He's looking so well now, I'd like a picture of him before he goes back and works himself down again." "You might suggest it to him," said Miss Ruston. She was looking straight ahead.
I saw the outside of the note, addressed in straggling, irregular characters, very unlike Holmes's usual precise hand. It was consigned to Mr. Abe Slaney, Elriges Farm, East Ruston, Norfolk.
As in the other picture the shadows were soft and hazy, only the surfaces touched by the fireglow showing with distinctness, the whole effect almost illusive, yet giving more of the human touch than any clear and distinct details could possibly have done. "That is Granny," said Miss Ruston, a gentle note in her eager voice.
"My middle name is Chase," observed Miss Ruston, laying her head back against the chair, and smiling out at Mrs. Burns through half-closed lids. "Charlotte Chase Ruston forms a quite imposing signature to imprint upon the distinguished portraits she is to make.
"I am wondering," he said, "if a short walk in the night air won't make you fitter for sleep than you look now. It is mild and fine outside. Will you come?" "It will do you good, Miss Ruston," urged her hostess, who had taken a strong liking to Dr. Leaver.
"Well, Len, I never could lead up to a thing; I have to tell it in one burst, and trust to Providence to sustain the hearer. What would you say to my coming to this place for a year, renting a cottage, putting in a skylight, and practising my profession of photography in your midst?" "Charlotte Ruston!"
At the end of three miles a good view of the coast to the northward was opened to us from the summit of a rising ground, and Ruston pointed out, at the distance of 24 miles, an island near which he said young Smith had been left.
"If they hadn't, you'd have missed your train. We've got to make time, now." As he took his place in the Green Imp Leaver looked across the street at the cottage back among the trees. Its windows were quite dark, although the hour was barely ten o'clock. Burns looked over, too. "By the way," he said, as they moved away, "why wasn't Miss Ruston among the crowd assembled to see you off?
Burns was not possessed of more than the ordinary amount of curiosity concerning other people's affairs, but he was accustomed to observe human nature and note its signs, and it struck him now rather suddenly that both John Leaver and Charlotte Ruston had seemed rather more than necessarily non-committal concerning an acquaintance which both admitted.
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