It was
Harney's secret signal as he passed on his way home. She stumbled to
the window on her high heels, flung open the shutters and leaned out. He
waved to her and sped by, his black shadow dancing merrily ahead of him
down the empty moonlit road; and she leaned there watching him till he
vanished under the Hatchard spruces.
XIII
THE Town Hall was crowded and exceedingly hot. As Charity marched into
it third in the white muslin file headed by Orma Fry, she was conscious
mainly of the brilliant effect of the wreathed columns framing the
green-carpeted stage toward which she was moving; and of the unfamiliar
faces turning from the front rows to watch the advance of the
procession.
But it was all a bewildering blur of eyes and colours till she found
herself standing at the back of the stage, her great bunch of asters and
goldenrod held well in front of her, and answering the nervous glance
of Lambert Sollas, the organist from Mr. Miles's church, who had come up
from Nettleton to play the harmonium and sat behind it, his conductor's
eye running over the fluttered girls.
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