"I am a Transgressor——"
At last, far into the night, she undressed and went to bed; so tired from emotion that she fell at once into dead slumber. But no sooner was she asleep than she was dreaming that a woman lay by her side on the bed whispering into her ear, pleading, asking for something, begging, urgently demanding. With a wrench Poppy threw off sleep and sat up staring into the darkness of the room. She was only half-awake, but she was certain—she could have sworn that a shadowy figure rose, too, from the bed, and slipped into the far shadows.
Beads of fright sat on her forehead.
"I am going mad!" she thought. "There was a woman on my bed ... she is still in the room. I am going mad!"
She was afraid to lie down again, and afraid to get out of bed. She sat there in cold terror until she thought herself turned to stone. Then, slowly, reason reasserted itself, and courage. She clenched her teeth and nerved herself to move, to get from the bed and from the room. The whole house was wrapped in darkness. Instinctively she made for the room above her, where she knew the servants were. Reaching the door she knocked and then entered. One of them was awake at once.
"Who's there? What do you want?" said an excited voice, ready to scream.
"Don't be afraid, Kate ... I am the girl who sleeps in the room below ... Miss Chard.... I don't want to disturb you—only—let me stay here until morning, will you?... I'm afraid to be in my own room."
Kate was "a good sort." She struck a match and stared at the intruder before answering; then she said: "Lock the door," and was obeyed with alacrity.
The maid hopped out and soon had a blanket round Poppy's trembling form. She made room on the bed, and they sat whispering together. The other maid slept on like the dead.