CHAPTER LII.
NEXT MORNING
Aunt Dinah leaned on her thin hand, looking with something like fear at William fixed and silently.
“What o’clock is it, aunt?” asked he.
“Three minutes to four,” she replied, consulting her broad old gold watch, and then holding it to her ear. “Yes; three minutes to four. I thought it was later. You saw something, William Maubray—you did. You have seen something: haven’t you?”
So William, bit by bit, scared and very uncomfortable, recounted his adventure, to which Miss Perfect listened attentively, and she said—
“Yes—it is remarkable—very wonderful—if anything can be said to be particularly so, where all is marvellous. I understand it, quite.”
“And what is it?” asked he.
“The spirit key again—my name and image—don’t you see? and ‘don’t let me go,’ and the other intimation—take it all together, it’s quite plain.”