He went down to Gravesend by boat, and strolled towards the villa.
When he was about a hundred yards from the villa, a lady, all in black, came out with a nurse and child.
Falcon knew her figure all that way off, and it gave him a curious thrill that surprised him. He followed her, and was not very far behind her when she reached the church. She turned at the porch, kissed the child earnestly, and gave the nurse some directions; then entered the church.
“Come,” said Falcon, “I'll have a look at her, any way.”
He went into the church, and walked up a side aisle to a pillar, from which he thought he might be able to see the whole congregation; and, sure enough, there she sat, a few yards from him. She was lovelier than ever. Mind had grown on her face with trouble. An angelic expression illuminated her beauty; he gazed on her, fascinated. He drank and drank her beauty two mortal hours, and when the church broke up, and she went home, he was half afraid to follow her, for he felt how hard it would be to say anything to her but that the old love had returned on him with double force.
However, having watched her home, he walked slowly to and fro composing himself for the interview.
He now determined to make the process of informing her a very long one: he would spin it out, and so secure many a sweet interview with her: and, who knows? he might fascinate her as she had him, and ripen gratitude into love, as he understood that word.
He called, he sent in his card. The man went in, and came back with a sonorous “Not at home.”
“Not at home? nonsense. Why, she is just come in from church.”
“Not at home,” said the man, evidently strong in his instructions.