But
you're in a pretty mess, I must say! Hi, Maria!"
At these words a large, fresh-looking woman came into the little hall.
"Maria," said the man, "here's a gentleman that's pretty nigh drowned,
and he's dripping puddles big enough to swim in."
The woman smiled. "Really, sir," said she, "you've had a hard time.
Wheeling, I suppose. It's an awful time to be out. It's so dark that I
lighted a lamp to make things look a little cheery. But you must come
in until the rain is over, and try and dry yourself."
"But how about the hall, Maria?" said the man. "There'll be a dreadful
slop!"
"Oh, I'll make that all right," she said. She disappeared, and quickly
returned with a couple of rugs, which she laid, wrong side up, on the
polished floor of the hallway. "Now you can step on those, sir, and
come into the kitchen. There's a fire there."
I thanked her, and presently found myself before a large stove, on
which it was evident, from the odors, that supper was preparing. In a
certain way the heat was grateful, but in less than a minute I was
bound to admit to myself that I felt as if I were enveloped in a vast
warm poultice.
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