"It's a judgment," she went on incoherently, wringing her hands;
"and I thought I had planned it so cleverly. I dressed up his
double-bass, Sam, and put it in the bed--oh! I am a wicked woman--and
pinned a note to the pin-cushion to say he had driven me to it,
throwing the breakfast things over the quay-door--real Worcester,
Sam, and marked at the bottom of each piece; and a carriage from the
Five Lanes Hotel to meet me at twelve o'clock; but I'd rather go
home, Sam; I've been longing, all the way, to go back; it's been
haunting me, that double-bass, all the time--with my nightcap,
too--the one with real lace--on the head of it. Oh! take me home,
Sam. I'm a wicked woman!"
Sam, after all, was a Trojan, and I therefore like to record his
graces. He drew his mother's arm within his with much tenderness,
kissed her, and began to lead her homewards quietly and without
question.
But the poor soul could not be silent; and so, very soon, the whole
story came out. At the mention of Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys Sam shut his
teeth sharply.
"I shall never be able to face her, Sam."
"I don't think you need trouble about that, mother," he answered
grimly.
"But I do. It was she--"
But at this moment, from the hedge, a few yards in front, there
issued a hollow groan.
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