So she addressed the letter and sealed it, and then sat looking out of the window at the rain. It was a hopeless sort of rain, faint and fine—a hopeless, melancholy world, without color or promise.
“I’d better take a walk!” thought Lexy, springing up.
Before she reached the door there was a knock, and Mrs. Royce put her head in.
“He’s here!” she whispered. “He’s asking for you.”
“Who?” cried Lexy.
“Hush! The doctor!” answered Mrs. Royce. “You could ’a’ knocked me down with a feather!”
XI
Feathers would not have knocked down the sturdy Lexy, however. On the contrary, she was pleased and interested by this utterly unexpected visit. The sinister doctor here, in this house, and asking for her! She started promptly toward the stairs.
“Miss Moran!” cautioned the landlady, in a whisper. “Don’t tell him nothing!”
“Tell him!” said Lexy. “But I haven’t anything to tell!”