The man’s head fell on his breast and he paused in his narrative.
“Go on,” said Landon, less brusquely than before.
Milly stirred nervously. “Don’t let him tell the rest, Wynne,” she said.
“Oh, yes, dear. Remember, this is what we’re here for.”
Most of the men shifted their positions; Hardwick leaned forward, both hands on his knees. Gifford Bruce sat with one arm flung carelessly over his chair back, a slight smile on his face.
Braye was beside Norma, and watched alternately her face and Eve’s, while Tracy was holding Vernie’s hand, and his gentle calm kept the volatile child quiet.
“I see it all so plainly,—that first night——” Stebbins said, slowly. “First night! Land! there never was another! Not for me. I’d sooner ’a’ died than slep’ in that room again!”
“See a ghost?” asked Bruce, flippantly.
“Yes, sir,” and Stebbins looked straight at him. “I seen a ghost. I’m a sound sleeper, I am, and I went to sleep quiet and ca’m as a baby. I woke as the big clock there was a strikin’ four. It was that what woke me—I hope.”
“Is there—is there a bed in that room?” asked the Professor.