"
It was the moment of intuition. She had struck deeper into his mind
than even he was aware of himself.
"What makes you think that?"
"What you said."
"What did I say?"
"You admitted that you were sick of being here alone."
"Well--?"
She burst out laughing. "Well--?" She turned to the door. "Good Lord!
Isn't every blooming man the same!"
She opened her bag and dropped the three gold pieces into a
pocket--one after another. You heard the dull sound of the first as
it fell, then the clinking of the other two, when the metal touched
metal. She shut the bag--the catch snapped sharp! Then she went.
CHAPTER X
You sow an idea--you sow a seed. It grows upwards through a soil of
subliminal unconsciousness until it lifts its head into the clear
air of realization. There is no limitation of time, no need for
watchful dependence upon the season. Only the moment and the
husbandry of circumstances are essential. With these, perhaps a
single hour is all that may be required for the seed to open, the
shoots to sprout, the plant itself to bear the fruit of action in
the fierce light of reality.
In Traill's mind the idea was sown when he stood outside the office
of Bonsfield & Co.
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