I did not at once question her, although I was consumed with curiosity, and tried to quiet her evident, although suppressed, excitement by talking of the commonplace incidents of my day in town. But it was apparent that she did not hear a word I said:—indeed, her attitude and manner were as of one who listened to another voice than mine; and I soon lapsed into silence and sat watching her with a growing anxiety.
Suddenly the obsession with which she seemed to be contending passed away:—she turned impulsively to me and cried:
"We must leave this house! I have endured all I can! I will not remain here another day!"
"I knew that something was wrong the moment I saw you," I said. "Something very bad has happened—do you want to tell me what it is?"
"Oh, I cannot, I cannot!" she exclaimed. "It is too horrible; it would frighten you to death if I should tell you!"
"Anything that you have gone through, I ought to be able to hear of," I replied. "I think you had better tell me your story, and get it off your mind, before our friend comes home."
"Oh, he must never know it!" she cried. "Promise me that you will not tell him!"
"Of course I will not tell him, if you do not wish it," I assented. "And now let me know what has alarmed you."
During our conversation I had imagined all sorts of terrifying incidents as having occurred—but my wife's next words sent a shiver through me.
"Deeming has been here," she said.