They sat as still as two mice, breathing only as much as was absolutely necessary. It was Tommy who first broke the silence.
He was more accustomed to hear these strange tales than his cousin, and, consequently, got over his fright sooner.
"How did the book shriek," questioned the boy.
The entrance of Mr. Soher and his spouse disturbed the proceedings. Adèle was very glad of it, for she was anxious to be back home before dusk.
Handing her a piece of paper, Adèle's uncle bade her be sure to give it to her father. He enjoined her not to lose it, but to hold it tightly all the way home. "Don't put it in your pocket," he added as the little girl was preparing to leave.
Adèle did as she was bid; she could not put the missive in her pocket, because—there was no pocket to the dress which she wore.
She hastened home. The story which Mrs. Soher had recited had shaken her nerves.
As she neared her father's house, she was tempted to look at the writing on the paper. There was a brief struggle within her. At last her conscience prevailed over her curiosity.
She met her father who was waiting for her on the threshold and handed him the paper. He ran his eyes over it and muttered audibly: "Let him go to the dogs, then, if he wishes to do so."
As soon as Adèle was out of the "Prenoms" the two garrulous women began to talk about their little visitor. As was their wont, they (especially the younger Mrs. Soher) cast upon Adèle all the slander and scandal which they were capable of. Their epigrams were as devoid of wit as they were coarse.