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They all came back as soon as my Father had slamed the house door, and if they had been feirce before they were awfull then, the cook with a handkerchief to her mouth, and Henry's friend getting out a watch and giving me five minutes. He had counted three minutes and was holding his Revolver to just behind my ear, when I heard the milk waggon coming back, with the horse galloping.
The rose, not the house, of course. Looking over it, he smiled down at me. LATER: It is midnight. I cannot sleep. Perchanse he to is lieing awake. I am sitting at the window in my ROBE DE NUIT. Below, mother and Sis have just come in, and Smith has slamed the door of the car and gone back to the GARAGE. How puney is the life my Familey leads!
But to my greif he refused very snappishly and without a Farewell slamed out of the house, leaving his hat and so forth in the hall. A bitter night ensued. For I shall admit that terrable thoughts filled my mind, although how perpetrated I knew not. Would those who loved me stoop to such depths as to poizon my afianced? And if so, whom? The very thought was sickning.
The School will understand this, the same being the condition of the new Freshman dormitory. The walls were to thin, and so were the floors. The Doors shivered in the wind, and palpatated if you slamed them. Also you could hear every Sound everywhere. I looked around me in dispair. Where, oh where, was I to find my cherished solatude? Where?
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