"I--I got the marrons!"
XI
In which Mr. Canning must go South for his Health, and Cally lies awake to think.
Midnight stillness hung over the House of Heth, five doors from Mr. Beirne's. Dim sounds from above indicated that Mrs. Heth, who had come in a few moments earlier, did not mean to sit up for anybody. She had, however, left the door "on the latch" as agreed. Carlisle and Mr. Canning passed within, out of the biting New Year.
It was like stepping into heaven to be at home again, after the rabble and rattle at Mr. Beirne's. Canning shut the door with something like a sigh.
"A lodge at last! We've had--well, a fragmentary time of it, haven't we?... That chap with the game foot is simply my hoodoo."
Carlisle winced a little. "Oh! Then you did remember him?"
"Could I forget my Beach supplanter, my giver of colds in the head? What's wrong with the fellow anyway?"
"Everything," said she. "Let's go into the library."