“No, but one of my aunts has. Hers always carry their heads. She asked one a question once and the head nodded.”
“Then you believe in things of that sort?”
“Not a particle—but I’m afraid of them.”
He smiled, and shortly after that I went back to the house. I think he was sorry about the ghost question, for he explained that he had been trying me out, and that I looked well in my cloak and bonnet.
“I’m afraid of your chin generally,” he said; “but the white lawn ties have a softening effect. In view of the ties I have almost the courage——”
“Yes?”
“I think not, after all.” he decided. “The chin is there, ties or no ties. Good-night, and—for heaven’s sake don’t run any unnecessary risks.”
The change from his facetious tone to earnestness was so unexpected that I was still standing there on the pavement when he plunged into the darkness of the square and disappeared.
IV
At ten minutes after eight I was back in the house. Mr. Reed admitted me, going through the tedious process of unlocking outer and inner vestibule doors and fastening them again behind me. He inquired politely if I had had a pleasant walk, and without waiting for my reply fell to reading the evening paper. He seemed to have forgotten me absolutely. First he scanned the headlines; then he turned feverishly to something farther on and ran his fingers down along a column. His lips were twitching, but evidently he did not find what he expected—or feared—for he threw the paper away and did not glance at it again. I watched him from the angle of the stairs.