Rebecca stared at the door, waiting for it to open. "Where is
she?" she asked presently.
"I guess she's stopped to take off her hat in the entry," suggested
Mrs. Dent.
Rebecca waited. "Why don't she come? It can't take her all this
time to take off her hat."
For answer Mrs. Dent rose with a stiff jerk and threw open the
door.
"Agnes!" she called. "Agnes!" Then she turned and eyed Rebecca.
"She ain't there."
"I saw her pass the window," said Rebecca in bewilderment.
"You must have been mistaken."
"I know I did," persisted Rebecca.
"You couldn't have."
"I did. I saw first a shadow go over the ceiling, then I saw her
in the glass there"--she pointed to a mirror over the sideboard
opposite--"and then the shadow passed the window."
"How did she look in the glass?"
"Little and light-haired, with the light hair kind of tossing over
her forehead."
"You couldn't have seen her."
"Was that like Agnes?"
"Like enough; but of course you didn't see her. You've been
thinking so much about her that you thought you did."
"You thought YOU did."
"I thought I saw a shadow pass the window, but I must have been
mistaken.
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