Much more eccentric than you've any idea of. He has fits—not in the medical or pathological sense, but fits all the same. They take various forms. One form is that of going off, all of a sudden, by himself—the Lord knows where!"
"As in the present instance," I suggested.
"To be sure! This," she said, "is by no means the first time Tibbie and I have been suddenly bereft of his presence. He departs! and no more's heard or seen of him until a reappearance as unexpected as his disappearance. And usually—indeed, I suppose always—when he returns he brings things with him."
"The thing is obvious," I remarked. "He's been hunting for curiosities."
"Perhaps! But why in such secrecy?"
"Part of the game. The more secrecy, the more pleasure. Human nature—antiquarian human nature."
"Well, about twelve or fifteen months ago he was away like that," she said. "I don't know where he'd been, he never tells. But when he returned the copper box was with him. He polished it up the night he came
