The Tower - A Novel #246336

Turning to the table she took up the field-glasses and hastily levelled them at the wide windows of the Tower rooms, below the arches. Surely there was some one moving inside! A woman in a mob cap came to the window and shook out a duster in the air. It was an intrusion, an unendurable in trusion! She swept her glass upward and was startled to find herself gazing into the face of a man who was leaning with his elbows on the stone balus trade, looking out over the garden and smoking tranquilly, as if he had a right to be there! There was something familiar in the poise of his head; his hand moved out slowly and she knew that he had flicked the ash from the tip of his cigar with his little finger. The color rushed to Miss Lang don's cheeks; she could not have seen at that dis tance; how was it, then, that she had been able to divine the exact turn of the hand, the quick motion of the finger, every detail that must have accom panied the vague movement which had caught her eye through the glass? Who can he be she murmured. He doesn't look young; it is not possible that some one is going to take the rooms again?