FROM THE LIFE
He took her arm, and she stumbled along with him, trembling against him, breathing heavily. The man, as Carey had hoped, came sneaking after them at a distance.
Carey took her up their steps to the front door, and descended with her, inside, to the basement, switching on all the lights. He left her in the kitchen and went out noiselessly to the basement door. The man was standing on the steps, looking up at the street number. Carey came quietly behind him. "She wants to see you," he said.
The man wheeled, startled. Carey was blocking his escape. "Who?" he asked, temporizing. "Mary?"
"Yes," Carey answered. "Mary. Go right in." (So her name was Mary!)
"Well," the fellow said, in a wheezy voice, "this 's a su'prise. I wasn't sure it was her."
"It's her," Carey waved him on. "She wants to see you—inside."
The man looked him over, hesitated, said, "Well, tha's all right, too," and entered, slouching.
Carey pointed him the way down to the basement, directed him to the Dutch dining-room, and followed in.
"Mary!" he called. "Come here."
She came from the kitchen. And standing in the doorway, supporting herself with one hand on the door-jamb, she looked across the room at the man with an insane and helpless horror.
[ 36 ]
