Broken Stalks #265459

One evening in June, a girl of about twenty was sitting in the hall of her Hampshire home, clasping her knees. She was listening intently for some sound that did not come, and while she waited her face and figure seemed to thrill with pleasurable excitement. Every now and then she bit her lips as if to hide a smile; she tossed her head, and swung her leg backwards and forwards.<br><br>Suddenly Joan Carey bounded from her chair and up the stairs, almost with one effort, for she had heard a door open in the distance. She withdrew into a dark corner on the second landing, and stood still, while she allowed a lady and two gentlemen to pass down the stairs.