I had that coming. She could not risk going in the door, lest she run into Larry or Cathy drinking a nocturnal glass of milk or Mike raiding the refrigerator for snacks. Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. Too damned chickenhearted to confess to me he’d run off with the woman. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. “Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister. But—Miss Pellissier!” “Well?” “Are you quite sure that you want us this evening? Wouldn’t you rather be alone? Just say the word, and we’ll clear out like a shot. After an hour of waiting, she slammed her bedroom door and he returned to his basement.
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