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Doyle, Arthur Conan

"The Hound Of The Baskervilles"

She had a proud, finely cut face, so regular that it might have seemed impassive were it not for the sensitive mouth and the beautiful dark, eager eyes. With her perfect figure and elegant dress she was, indeed, a strange apparition upon a lonely moorland path. Her eyes were on her brother as I turned, and then she quickened her pace towards me. I had raised my hat and was about to make some explanatory remark when her own words turned all my thoughts into a new channel.


? ? ? ? "Go back!" she said. "Go straight back to London, instantly."


? ? ? ? I could only stare at her in stupid surprise. Her eyes blazed at me, and she tapped the ground impatiently with her foot.


? ? ? ? "Why should I go back?" I asked.


? ? ? ? "I cannot explain." She spoke in a low, eager voice, with a curious lisp in her utterance. "But for God's sake do what I ask you. Go back and never set foot upon the moor again."


? ? ? ? "But I have only just come."


? ? ? ? "Man, man!" she cried. "Can you not tell when a warning is for your own good? Go back to London! Start to-night! Get away from this place at all costs! Hush, my brother is coming! Not a word of what I have said. Would you mind getting that orchid for me among the mare's-tails yonder? We are very rich in orchids on the moor, though, of course, you are rather late to see the beauties of the place.


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