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Updated: May 23, 2025
I could run down to Richmond, and see her once there was no disloyalty to Rich in that. I had no intention of opening the little bag. I put it under my pillow which was my reason for refusing to have the linen slips changed, to Mrs. Klopton's dismay.
"Well, I was curious about that thing," he went on, as we started up the street, "and I went back. The street door was unlocked, and I examined every room. I was Mrs. Klopton's ghost that carried a light, and clumb." "Did you find anything?" "Only a clean place rubbed on the window opposite your dressing-room. Splendid view of an untidy interior.
Diligent search when I have made a midnight arrival, never reveals anything more substantial. Possibly I imagine it, but the announcement that I am about to make a journey always seems to create a general atmosphere of depression throughout the house, as though Euphemia and Eliza, and Thomas, the stableman, were already subsisting, in imagination, on Mrs. Klopton's meager fare.
You can have Sullivan's red necktie to dream over if you think it will help any." Mrs. Klopton's voice came drowsily from the next room, punctuated by a yawn. "Oh, I forgot to tell you," she called, with the suspicious lisp which characterizes her at night, "somebody called up about noon, Mr. Lawrence. It was long distance, and he said he would call again. The name was" she yawned "Sullivan."
"You can tell him that yourself." McKnight paused and bent forward. "Hello, here's a visitor; little man with string halt." "I won't see him," I said firmly. "I've been bothered enough with reporters." We listened together to Mrs. Klopton's expostulating tones in the lower hall and the creak of the boards as she came heavily up the stairs.
And I wish you wouldn't be so suspicious of motives, Rich," I said warmly. "Only yesterday you were the suspicious one," he retorted, and we lapsed into strained silence. It was late when we got to Washington. One of Mrs. Klopton's small tyrannies was exacting punctuality at meals, and, like several other things, I respected it.
But during the restless hours of that first night after the accident, when my back ached with lying on it, and any other position was torture, I found my thoughts constantly going back to Alison West. I dropped into a doze, to dream of touching her fingers again to comfort her, and awoke to find I had patted a teaspoonful of medicine out of Mrs. Klopton's indignant hand.
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