“Ah, I’ve had those, a many! No, a real one. To be playmates with....”
I said: “I will go up first to-night and see how Gerald is. Will you wait here?”
“I’m tired and frightened,” she said faintly. “Don’t be long.”
I don’t think I stayed up there more than a few seconds. I don’t know. I switched out the light, and as I went down the dark narrow stairs I did not strike a match.
“Well?” she whispered from the darkness.
I don’t know what I said. I suppose I must have said that he was in the same state as when she had seen him before. Then I pretended I had no matches left, and said I had better go down first while she held on to my shoulder. “Then if you fall, I’ll fall,” she complained, but I said I would not fall.
Stair by stair we slowly descended in the darkness. I wanted particularly to see Guy. There were certain things to be done, I supposed. My mind was vacant as a plate on which was drawn a confused picture that would, on looking closely, mean something horrible. There had been a stain on the wall, a great jagged dripping stain, and bits of hair sticking to it.
“Oh, God, this drink!” she said frantically; then almost sobbed: “What’s that!” But it was only the telephone-bell from the hall downstairs, queerly strident and unrestrained in that still, musty little house. Brrr! Brrr! Brrr!... “I never knew a telephone could be so shrill! Will it be some one for Gerald?”
“It will ring for ever if I don’t answer it,” I said, opening the door into the lane. “I’ll follow you to the car.” I hoped it was Guy ringing up on the chance of catching us.
“Well?” his cold murmur came through the night. He said he would meet me at my door in ten minutes’ time. “What are you doing about Iris?” he asked me and I think I said: “Nothing. What can I do?”