There was not much
in the way of flowers to look at, but he moved about quite
unconscious of any deprivation. A cluster of greenhouses,
massed against the southern side of the mansion,
attracted his listless fancy, and he walked toward what
appeared to be an entrance to them. The door was locked,
but he found another further on which opened to his hand.
The air was very hot and moist inside, and the place was
so filled with broad-leaved, umbrageous tropical plants
that he had to stoop to make his way through to the end.
The next house had a more tolerable atmosphere, and contained
some blossoms to which he gave momentary attention.
In the third house, through the glass-door, he could
see a man--evidently a gardener--lifting some pots to a
shelf overhead.
The thought occurred to him that by entering into
conversation with this man, he might indirectly obtain
a hint as to the usual breakfast-hour at Hadlow. It was
now nearly ten o'clock, and he was getting very hungry.
Would they not ring a bell, or sound a gong, or something?
he wondered. Perhaps there had been some such summons,
and he had not heard it. It might be the intelligent
thing for him to return to the house, at all events,
and sit in the hall where the servants could see him,
in case the meal was in progress.
Looking idly through the glass at the gardener, meanwhile,
it suddenly dawned upon him that the face and figure
were familiar.
Pages:
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118