“Who is it?” he asked in a wavery voice.
Peter told his name and mission.
The old Captain continued holding up his light.
“Oh, Peter Siner; Caroline Siner’s sick? All right I’ll have Jallup run over; I’ll phone him.”
Peter was beginning his thanks preparatory to going, when the old man interrupted.
“No, just stay here until Jallup comes by in his car. He’ll pick us both up. It’ll save time. Come on inside. What’s the matter with old Caroline?”
The old dressing-gown led the way around the continuous piazza, to a room that stood open and brightly lighted on the north face of the old house.
A great relief came to Peter at this unexpected succor. He followed around the piazza, trying to describe Caroline’s symptoms. The room Peter entered was a library, a rather stately old room, lined with books all around the walls to about as high as a man could reach. Spaces for doors and windows were let in among the book-cases. The volumes themselves seemed composed mainly of histories and old-fashioned scientific books, if Peter could judge from a certain severity of their bindings. On a big library table burned a gasolene-lamp, which threw a brilliant whiteness all over the room. The table was piled with books and periodicals. Books and papers were heaped on every chair in the study except a deep Morris chair in which the old Captain had been sitting. A big meridional globe, about two and a half feet in diameter
