I must get there
as soon as I can."
When she had so dressed herself that the reflection the mirror
gave back to her was of the nature of a slight physical stimulant
she opened her bedroom door and faced exploration of the deserted
house below with a quaking sense of the proportions of the
inevitable. She got down the narrow stairs casting a frightened
glance at the emptiness of the drawing-rooms which seemed to stare
at her as she passed them. There was sun in the dining-room and
when she opened the sideboard she found some wine in decanters and
some biscuits and even a few nuts and some raisins and oranges.
She put them on the table and sat down and ate some of them and
began to feel a little less shaky.
If she had been allowed time to sit longer and digest and reflect
she might have reached the point of deciding on what she would write
to Lord Coombe. She had not the pen of a ready writer and it must
be thought over. But just when she was beginning to be conscious
of the pleasant warmth of the sun which shone on her shoulders from
the window, she was almost startled our of her chair by hearing
again stealing down the staircase from the upper regions that faint
wail like a little cat's.
"Just the moment--the very MOMENT I begin to feel a little
quieted--and try to think--she begins again!" she cried out. "It's
worse then ANYTHING!"
Large crystal tears ran down her face and upon the polished table.
Pages:
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69