“We will not talk of him,” said she, her eyes seeking the sea where the sun in its rising was battling with a troop of lowering clouds and slowly gaining the victory.
END OF PROBLEM IV [ [!-- H2 anchor --] ]
PROBLEM V. THE DREAMING LADY
“And this is all you mean to tell me?”
“I think you will find it quite enough, Miss Strange.”
“Just the address—”
“And this advice: that your call be speedy. Distracted nerves cannot wait.”
Violet, across whose wonted piquancy there lay an indefinable shadow, eyed her employer with a doubtful air before turning away toward the door. She had asked him for a case to investigate (something she had never done before), and she had even gone so far as to particularize the sort of case she desired: “It must be an interesting one,” she had stipulated, “but different, quite different from the last one. It must not involve death or any kind of horror. If you have a case of subtlety without crime, one to engage my powers without depressing my spirits, I beg you to let me have it. I—I have not felt quite like myself since I came from Massachusetts.” Whereupon, without further comment, but with a smile she did not understand, he had handed her a small slip of paper on which he had scribbled an address. She should have felt satisfied, but for some reason she did not. She regarded him as capable of plunging her into an affair quite the reverse of what she felt herself in a condition to undertake.
“I should like to know a little more,” she pursued, making a move to unfold the slip he had given her.
But he stopped her with a gesture.