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Oemler, Marie Conway, 1879-1932

"A Woman Named Smith"

There was an ominous clatter, for no less than the Father
of his Country himself had fallen out of his place. At the same
instant Beautiful Dog gained the door, with both cats upon his hind
quarters; with one prolonged yell of terror he made for safety and
Mary Magdalen.
I picked myself and the tile up. Thank Heaven, it wasn't broken. The
blow had loosened the cement that held it in place, and where it had
been was a small square hole.
I looked at that hole doubtfully. There oughtn't to be any hole
there at all. That was a curious way to fix tiles, such precious
tiles as ours. I slipped my hand in and tentatively tested the black
wall, and discovered that the other tiles, as might be expected, had
been properly put in; that is, against a solid background.
I put my hand farther into the aperture. It was larger than might be
expected, and most cunningly contrived--a hollow space some ten
inches in width, and possibly a foot deep. There was something in
it.
Now I am mortally afraid of rats and mice, and what I had touched
had the sleazy feel of frayed silk. It might be a rat's nest! I took
a sliver of lightwood from the fire, and with this examined the
black interior, before I ventured my fingers again.


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