"Why, about the awful dream I had last night."
I was able to smile faintly, and was partly prepared for what was coming.
"I am ready to hear it, Mrs. Clarkson."
"Why, you know it was Friday night, and I never had a dream on a Friday night that didn't come true—never! Where's Bob?" she abruptly asked, peering around me, as if to learn whether he was in the hall.
"He's off somewhere at play."
"Oh, Mr. Havens, you'll never see him alive again!"
Although startled in spite of myself, I was indignant.
"Have you any positive knowledge, Mrs. Clarkson, on the matter?"
"Certainly I have; didn't I just tell you about my dream?"
"A fudge for your dream!" I exclaimed, impatiently; "I don't believe in any such nonsense."