“Yes, madam, I did.”
“Then you could do that in the morning. I’m afraid I couldn’t listen now — I’m pretty tired.” Her hands, on her lap, tightened into fists and then relaxed. She turned to her younger daughter. “Phoebe, you’ll have to go home and get things for us.” She went back to Wolfe. “Your spare room — will it do for two?”
“Admirably. There are twin beds.”
“Then my daughter Phoebe will be with me. I don’t think you need to fear for my safety — I’m sure she won’t kill me in my sleep. Tomorrow afternoon, if I’m still here, you will have to excuse me. My husband’s funeral will be at four o’clock.”
“Mother,” Jerome said quietly, “let me take you home.”
She didn’t use breath to answer him, but asked Wolfe, “Will I have to walk upstairs?”
“No indeed,” Wolfe said, as if that made everything fine and dandy. “You may use my elevator.”
VIII
The fact is we have two spare rooms. Wolfe’s room is at the rear of the house on the second floor, which he uses because its windows face south, and there is another bedroom on that floor in front, unoccupied. On the third floor my room is the one at the front, on the street, and there is another spare at the rear which we call the South Room, We put Mrs. Whitten and Phoebe there because it is large, and has better furniture and rugs, its own bathroom, and twin beds. I had told them where I could be found in case of fire.
I heard a noise. That put it up to me to decide whether I was awake or asleep, and I went to work on it. But I didn’t feel like working and was going to let it slide when there was another noise.