"No, there isn't," looking into his cup; "nor sugar."
She threw a lump at him, which he caught, laughing one of his abrupt laughs.
"How extraordinarily affectionate," I thought, but somehow it pleased me.
"Why do you tempt me, Alice?" I said. "Doctor White says I must not drink coffee."
"Tempted!" Charles exclaimed. "Cassandra is never tempted. What she does, she does because she will. Don't worry yourself, Alice, about her."
"Because I will," I repeated.
A nervous foreboding possessed me, the moment I entered my room. Was it the coffee? Twice in the night I lighted my candle, looked at the little French clock on the mantel, and under the bed. At last I fell asleep, but starting violently from its oblivious dark, to become aware that the darkness of the room was sentient. A breath passed over my face; but I caught no sound, though I held my breath to listen for one. I moved my hands before me then, but they came in contact with nothing. My forebodings passed away, and I slept till Alice sent for me. I sat up in bed philosophizing, and examining the position of the chairs, the tops of the tables and the door. No change had taken place. But my eyes happened to fall on my handkerchief, which had dropped by the bedside. I picked it up; there was a dusty footprint upon it. The bell rang, and, throwing it under the bed, I dressed and ran down. Alice was taking breakfast, tired of waiting. She said the baby had cried till after midnight, and that Charles never came to bed at all.
"Do eat this hot toast; it has just come in."
"I shall stay at home to-day, Alice, I feel chilly; is it cold?"
"You must have a fire in your room."