For a moment Ross thought it was an echo from his dream, but, as the drowsiness cleared from his head, he knew it was real. He got up and touched the sleeping youth on the shoulder.
“There’s some one calling you!” he said. Eddy opened his eyes with an alert expression and glared at Ross.
“What?” he demanded, sternly. “No monkey tricks, now!”
As a matter-of-fact, he was still more than half asleep, and Ross had to repeat his statement twice before it was understood. Then he sprang up, pushed aside the chairs, and unlocked the door.
It was Miss Solway. She came in, like a wraith; she was wrapped in a fur coat, but she looked cold, pale, affrighted; her black eyes wide, her misty dark hair in disorder; a fit figure for a dream.
“Eddy!” she said. “Go away!”
“Lookit here, Miss Amy,” Eddy protested, anxiously. “Wait till morning.”
“But it is morning!” she cried. “Go away, Eddy! Quick! I want to speak to— Go away, do! I only have a minute to spare.”
“Morning!” thought Ross. He looked at his watch, which showed a few minutes past six; then at the window. It was as black as ever outside.
“Lookit here, Miss Amy,” Eddy began again. “If I was you, I’d—”