“Don’t,” said Annie. “I am not going to confide in you; so don’t think it. I only want to get into bed and to sleep.”
Leslie did not venture to say any more. She lit the little spirit-lamp, put on the milk to boil, and prepared the cocoa as usual. When Annie’s cup was ready, brimful and frothy, and looking as tempting as it could, she brought it to her with a biscuit.
“Now, drink this at once,” she said in a voice of authority, “if you really wish to sleep.”
Annie stared vacantly at the cocoa, then she uttered a laugh.
“Drink that?” she said. “Do you want to kill me? Don’t talk any more. I am sleepy; I shall sleep.”
She got into bed as she spoke, and wrapped the clothes tightly round her.
“Oh, do turn off the electric light,” she said again. “Can’t you manage with a candle, just for once?”
“Certainly,” said Leslie.
She turned off the light, and lit a candle, which she put behind her screen, then prepared to get into bed.
Annie’s manner was very mysterious. There was no doubt that she had got a shock; but of what nature Leslie could not in the least make out. There was no help for it, however. Annie did not mean to confide in anyone that night, and the kindest thing was to leave her alone.