it twin moons in a midnight pool, or—well, whatever it was, he would have to go easy on it and stall.
To those who did not understand the character of Valentine Morley it might appear curious that a momentary glimpse of a passable appearing girl in the half light of a bookshop should so upset his notions of right and wrong; that the remembrance of a girl he had seen for hardly more than an instant should have so taken possession of him. And yet, as Val remarked to himself, that chap Browning said something of the kind when he said that Love, which can come by a turn of the head, or a glance out of the eye, or a wisp of hair momentarily curling on the nape of a neck, can go by just these things—instantaneously, as it came. And Val could admit to himself freely and without reservation that this woman, in the brief moment of his visioning of her, had taken greater hold on him than any woman he had ever met.
That being the case, he intended to be very careful of what he said. Sam Peters, he knew, had hardly glanced at her when she was here last night. He had been busy dragging in the counter book stalls. His eyesight, too, was not what it was in his youth. He would hardly be able to give a satisfactory description of the girl—probably he had already given what description he could. Probably⸺
“Now, if you could give us an accurate description of the woman, Mr. Morley, we might⸺” suggested the sergeant tentatively. He paused and gazed at Val significantly.
“Eh, of course, of course,” replied that worthy, brought up short out of his reverie. “Anything I can do, why, just rely on me.”
