"What on earth is the matter, Thusis?" I managed to whisper at last.
"N-nothing. There was a shutter blowing——"
"But it's on the floor above! It's on your floor, Thusis."
She was silent for a moment, then: "What are you doing—prowling about the house at this hour?" she demanded.
"In my case," said I, "it was the shutter."
"Very well. I'll go up and fix it, and you may go back to bed."
But I had begun to feel a little troubled, and I made no motion to depart.
"I'll fix it," she repeated. "Good night."
"Thusis?"
"What?" In her voice I distinguished the slightest tone of impatience, perhaps of defiance. "What is it?" she repeated.