The door at the further end closed upon her.
'A masterful young woman!' said the Squire after a moment, drawing a long breath.

Then he took up the codicil, thrust it into a drawer of his writing-table, lit a cigarette, and walked up and down smoking it.

After which he went to bed and slept remarkably well.
Elizabeth cried herself to sleep.

No comforting sprite whispered to her that she had won the first round in an arduous campaign.

On the contrary, she fully expected dismissal on the morrow..