Even for that short interval Mrs. Reed had taken his place at the children’s door.
She wore a black dress, long sleeved and high at the throat, instead of the silk negligee of the previous evening, and she held a book. But she was not reading. She smiled rather wistfully when she saw me.
“How fresh you always look!” she said. “And so self-reliant. I wish I had your courage.”
“I am perfectly well. I dare say that explains a lot. Kiddies asleep?”
“Freddie isn’t. He has been crying for Chang. I hate night, Miss Adams. I’m like Freddie. All my troubles come up about this time. I’m horribly depressed.”
Her blue eyes filled with tears.
“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she confessed.
I should think not!
Without taking off my things I went down to Mr. Reed in the lower hall.
“I’m going to insist on something,” I said. “Mrs. Reed is highly nervous. She says she has not been sleeping. I think if I give her an opiate and she gets an entire night’s sleep it may save her a breakdown.”