Now, I shan't
say a word more about him. So you needn't ask questions. I'm tired. I
want to go to bed."
With this ultimatum, she bolted into the hotel, leaving the three of us
speechless for a few seconds. I suppose each was wondering, "Am _I_ the
one the doctor didn't want to meet?" Then I remembered my impression of
having known that tall, thin figure long ago, and I was seized with
certainty that the mysterious person had fled from me. At all events, I
was sure Miss O'Farrell wished me to think so by way of being as
aggravating as she possibly could.
"Well, I'm _blessed_!" Puck exploded.
"Are you?" I doubted. And I couldn't resist adding, "I thought your
sister always did what you wanted?"
"In the end she does," he upheld his point. "But--just lately--she's
bewitched! Some saint is needed to remove the ban."
I thought the saint was only too near her hand! Whether that hand would
scratch or strike I couldn't guess; but one gesture was as dangerous as
the other.
What with thinking of my own horridness and other people's, wondering
about the shadow-man, and being roused by the usual early morning air
raid, bed didn't mother me with its wonted calming influence. Excitement
was a tonic for the next day, however; and a bath and coffee braced me
for an expedition with the Prefet's wife and daughters, and the
Becketts. They took us over the two huge _casernes_, turned into homes
of refuge for two thousand people from the invaded towns and villages of
Lorraine: old couples, young women (of course the young men are
fighting), and children.
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