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Freeman, Mary Eleanor Wilkins, 1852-1930

"The Wind in the rose-bush and other stories of the supernatural"

All over the floor. Oh, oh! What is it?"
"I don't know any more than you do. I didn't do it."
"Lookin'-glasses broken is a sign of death in the house," said
Cordelia. "If it's me, I hope I'm ready; but I'd rather die than
be so scared as I've been lately."
Mr. Townsend shook himself loose and eyed the two trembling women
with gathering resolution.
"Now, look here, both of you," he said. "This is nonsense. You'll
die sure enough of fright if you keep on this way. I was a fool
myself to be startled. Everything it is is an earthquake."
"Oh, David!" gasped his wife, not much reassured.
"It is nothing but an earthquake," persisted Mr. Townsend. "It
acted just like that. Things always are broken on the walls, and
the middle of the room isn't affected. I've read about it."
Suddenly Mrs. Townsend gave a loud shriek and pointed.
"How do you account for that," she cried, "if it's an earthquake?
Oh, oh, oh!"
She was on the verge of hysterics. Her husband held her firmly by
the arm as his eyes followed the direction of her rigid pointing
finger. Cordelia looked also, her eyes seeming converged to a
bright point of fear.


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