Prev | Current Page 472 | Next

Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"A Spirit in Prison"

I listened,
but I heard nothing more. Still, I thought it best to get up. I had
just put on my clothes when again I heard a noise at the door. I
myself had locked it for the night. What should I think?"
"I was outside. I came back for something. That was what you heard.
Then I went out again."
"Si."
He stood there staring at her in a way that seemed, she fancied, to
rebuke her. She knew that he wished to know why she had gone out so
late, returned to the house, then gone out once more.
"Come up-stairs for a minute, Gaspare," she said. "I want to speak to
you."
He looked less stern, but still unlike himself.
"Si, Signora. Shall I put on my jacket?"
"No, no, never mind. Come like that."
She went up-stairs, treading softly, lest she might disturb Vere. He
followed. When they were in her sitting-room she said:
"Gaspare, why did you go to bed without coming to say good-night to
me?"
He looked rather confused.
"Did I forget, Signora? I was tired. Forgive me.


Pages:
460 461 462 463 464 465 466 467 468 469 470 471 472 473 474 475 476 477 478 479 480 481 482 483 484