At some time unknown, out of the blind depths of the night, I was awakened by a voice:—
“It’s beginning to rain. I think I’ll just go out and empty what’s near the house.”
“Janet!” I murmured, “don’t be absurd.”
“But it will dilute all that sap.”
“There isn’t any sap to dilute. It won’t be running at night.” After a while the voice, full of propitiatory intonations, resumed:—
“My dear, you don’t mind if I slip out. It will only take a minute.”
“I do mind. Go to sleep!”
Silence. Then:—
“It’s raining harder. I hate to think of all that sap—”
“You don’t have to think!” I was quite savage. “Just go to sleep—and let me!” Another silence. Then a fresh downpour. The voice was pleading:—