That determination was to let things be for the
present, upon the chance of something happening by means of which the
dilemma might be solved. But if nothing happened--and indeed it did
not seem probable to her that anything would happen--then she would
sacrifice herself at the last moment. She believed, indeed she knew,
that she could always call Edward Cossey back to her if she liked. It
was a compromise, and like all compromises had an element of weakness;
but it gave time, and time to her was like breath to the dying.
"Sir," said George presently, "it's Boisingham Quarter Sessions the
day after to-morrow, ain't it?" (Mr. de la Molle was chairman of
Quarter Sessions.)
"Yes, of course, it is."
George thought for a minute.
"I'm a-thinking, Squire, that if I arn't wanting that day I want to go
up to Lunnon about a bit of business."
"Go up to London!" said the Squire; "why what are you going to do
there? You were in London the other day."
"Well, Squire," he answered, looking inexpressibly sly, "that ain't no
matter of nobody's. It's a bit of private affairs."
"Oh, all right," said the Squire, his interest dying out. "You are
always full of twopenny-halfpenny mysteries," and he continued his
walk.
But George shook his fist in the direction of the road down which the
dog-cart had driven.
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