Mrs. Trapes jumped.
"Well, for th' love o' heaven!" she exclaimed, and down fell her knitting.
"Now you've dropped it!" said Ravenslee a little petulantly.
"Your very—identical—words!" said Mrs. Trapes in awed tones. "Nacher sure 'moves in a mysterious way her wonders to perform'!"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean as them was the identical words as you addressed to me when you took th' turn two days ago!"
"Two days!" exclaimed Ravenslee, staring.
"Ever since you did take the turn two days ago, you've laid there so quiet an' peaceful—no more dreams an' ravin'—you've jest laid there 'wrapped in infant slumbers pure an' light', Mr. Geoffrey—Ravenslee, I mean."
"Why then, it's about time I got up. If you'll kindly—er—retire and send Patterson, I'll get dressed."
"Dressed?" echoed Mrs. Trapes, hollow-voiced and grim. "Get up? Lord, Mr. Geoffrey!"