Lucile’s face went first white, then red.
“Oh, that! That was nothing. I—I went to sleep and dreamed, I guess. You see,” she explained to the officer, “I had been out in the storm so long, I was sort of benumbed with the cold, and when I got inside I fell asleep.”
“And then—” the officer prompted with an encouraging smile.
“It won’t do any harm to tell,” encouraged Florence.
Stammering and blushing at first, Lucile launched into her story. Gaining in confidence as she went on, she succeeded in telling it very well.
When she came to the part about the blue face, in his eagerness to drink in every detail the officer leaned forward, half rising from his chair.
“Hold on,” he exclaimed excitedly. “You say it was a blue face?”
“Yes, blue. I am sure of that.”
“Blue like the candlestick?”
“Why, yes—yes, I think it was.”