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She had reached the height of land, where he had found her the day her roan mare strayed off while she sat mooning on a log; she was holding out both arms toward the spot where the valley of Thirty-Mile must lie, when a team of heavy horses broke around a turn in the road, slowed to a trot at the sight of her, and came to an abrupt standstill.

He scanned each car that approached and slowed for every meeting like a searching party or a man who is lost and wishes to inquire the way. His pace would have been law-abiding in Los Angeles at five o'clock on Broadway between Fourth and Eighth streets. Goggled women tourists eyed him curiously, and one car stopped full to see what he wanted.

Runs, she runs to meet me, a girl with gold hair on the wind. Two letters and a card lay on the hallfloor. He stooped and gathered them. Mrs Marion Bloom. His quickened heart slowed at once. Bold hand. Mrs Marion. Poldy! Entering the bedroom he halfclosed his eyes and walked through warm yellow twilight towards her tousled head. Who are the letters for? He looked at them. Mullingar. Milly.

That ought to slow it down enough for us to nab it." "But what about my car?" Farnsworth bleated. "What about that first building or first person it hits in San Francisco?" "Oh," he said. "Hadn't thought of that." I slowed the car and stuck my head out the window. It was lighter now, but no sign of the ball.

Like a soldier of the ranks on secret forced march, ignorant of his destination, given only conjecture as to what the morrow would bring forth, Tom Blair panted ahead. With the coming of daylight Ben slowed to a walk, and looked about in quest of breakfast.

Now, said Sir Lionel, we were about to see the heart of Wales; and I should soon have realized that without his telling, for as we slowed down to pass through little villages we heard the children talking Welsh a soft, pleasant language, which I can only try to describe by saying that it sounded like whispering out loud. But that is a very Irish description!

"Zeppelin," was the reply. "Douse the light aft. Have the man forward see if he can pick up the craft with his flash. About two points east by north." There came sharp commands aboard the Queen Mary. A bell tinkled in the engine room of the Queen Mary. The ship slowed down. Captain Raleigh had been called by the third officer. He took the bridge and issued his orders sharply.

She didn't. She kept going. The car backfired, slowed. She yanked the gear from third into first. She sped up. The motor ran like a terrified pounding heart, while the car crept on by inches through filthy mud that stretched ahead of her without relief. She was battling to hold the car in the principal rut. She snatched the windshield open, and concentrated on that left rut.

The two men did not come to the bargain square, but he of the red moustache slowed down to throw a glance of intense interest at the denuded counters and the customers who lingered, though the sale was ended, to buy "Pavlovas" at their suddenly augmented price. He spoke to the floorwalker, and got some answer which Miss Stein would evidently have given at least a week out of her life to hear.

As Magda smiled into his startled eyes the grey eyes that had burned their way into her memory ten years ago the taxi slid away into the lamp-lit dusk. With a grinding of brakes the taxi slowed up and came to a standstill at Friars' Holm, the quaint old Queen Anne house which Magda had acquired in north London.