Most merciful God, how
came he by that Paper if the Tale be untrue?
"Greatly am I upsett by this Improbable & Frightful Thing. Sure this
requires Prayer & Fasting, lest I be Delud'd."
Between the pages following this last entry was a piece of yellowed
paper, the paper that had been lost from the Author's coat pocket,
in the locked closet of his room.
After a while I managed to work the slit of a drawer open, and to
this hiding-place I returned Freeman's diary, and with it the
faintly scented bit of paper that The Author mourned.
* * * * *
The failure of her matrimonial plans for me did not occasion Miss
Alicia Gaines overmuch grief. She seemed to have dismissed the whole
matter from her mind. Restored to her old time gaiety, she sang like
a thrush as she worked. She bubbled over with the sheer joy of
living, until the very sight of her gladdened one. And she simply
couldn't make her feet behave! She danced with the broom one
morning, to the great amusement of our scholarly old Englishman.
"I'm supposed to be somewhat of an old stick myself: why not try me,
instead of the broom?" he suggested slyly.
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