Whatever happened, Benny mustn't hear her. She mustn't waken, Benny. Thank Heaven, Benny was asleep. Benny must never know how, out there in the whitened night, the hands of the figure slowly and unceasingly beckoned and beckoned.
The sight of those reaching arms stayed before her. When, hours later, she fell asleep, she still saw the slow-moving, motioning hands.
It was morning when she wakened.
The sun streamed into the room.
She went to the door and opened it.
"Benny—" She called. "Oh, Benny."
There was no answer.
"Benny—" She called again. "Get on up. It's late, Benny!"
The house was quiet.
She half dressed herself and went into his room.