We then sat down, and I gave him the key ring, which he said was a dandy. I then told him about getting Sis married and out of the way. He thought it was a good idea.
“You’ll never have a chance as long as she’s around,” he observed, smoking father’s cigar at intervals. “They’re afraid of you, and that’s flat. It’s your Eyes. That’s what got me, anyhow.” He blue a smoke ring and sat back with his legs crossed. “Funny, isn’t it?” he said. “Here we are, snug as weavils in a cotton thing-un-a-gig, and only a week ago there was nothing between us but to brick walls. Hot in here, don’t you think?”
“Only a week!” I said. “Tom, I’ve somthing to tell you. That is the nice part of being engaged—to tell things that one would otherwise bury in one’s own Bosom. I shall have no secrets from you from henceforward.”
So I told him about the car and how we could drive together in it, and no one would know it was mine, although I would tell the Familey later on, when to late to return it. He said little, but looked at me and kept on smoking, and was not as excited as I had expected, although interested.
But in the midst of my Narative he rose quickly and observed:
“Bab, I’m poizoned!”
I then perceived that he was pale and hagard. I rose to my feet, and thinking it might be the cigar, I asked him if he would care for a peice of chocolate cake to take the taste away. But to my greif he refused very snappishly and without a Farewell slamed out of the house, leaving his hat and so forth in the hall.
A bitter night ensued. For I shall admit that terrable thoughts filled my mind, although how perpetrated I knew not. Would those who loved me stoop to such depths as to poizon my afianced? And if so, whom?
The very thought was sickning.
I told Jane the next morning, but she pretended to beleive that the cigar had been to strong for him, and that I should remember that, although very good-hearted, he was a mere child. But, if poizon, she suggested Hannah.