“That Logie had no heir—and, Dick——”
A great light came into Hardcastle’s face. From under lowered eyelids she watched it glow and deepen like dawn above Pengables Hill. He was older and younger both, and his voice a conqueror’s.
“Now Logie’s doubly safe,” he said.
From the grey-boled sycamores above them, Logie’s guardian rooks rose in a great, chattering cloud. They and their fore-elders had nested here for generations out of mind; and it seemed as if they, too, understood.
THE END
JOHN LONG, LTD., PUBLISHERS, LONDON, ENGLAND, 1925
Printed in Great Britain at the Athenæum Printing Works, Redhill
TRANSCRIBER NOTES
Mis-spelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple spellings occur, majority use has been employed.
Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer errors occur.