She was quite sure that when she had head that
unearthly cry, the dead faces had all been turned towards her.
"It is no matter," replied Keyork in a tone of indifference which was
genuine. "I wish somebody would take my collection off my hands. I
should have room to walk about without elbowing a failure at every
step."
"I wish you would bury them all," suggested Unorna, with a slight
shudder.
Keyork looked at her keenly.
"Do you mean to say that those dead things frightened you?" he asked
incredulously.
"No; I do not. I am not easily frightened. But something odd
happened--the second strange thing that has happened this evening. Is
there any one concealed in this room?"
"Not a rat--much less a human being. Rats dislike creosote and corrosive
sublimate, and as for human beings----"
He shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
"Then I have been dreaming," said Unorna, attempting to look relieved.
"Tell me about him. Where is he?"
"In bed--at his hotel. He will be perfectly well to-morrow."
"Did he wake?" she asked anxiously.
"Yes. We talked together."
"And he was in his right mind?"
"Apparently. But he seems to have forgotten something."
"Forgotten? What? That I had made him sleep?"
"Yes. He had forgotten that too."
"In Heaven's name, Keyork, tell me what you mean! Do not keep me--"
"How impatient women are!" exclaimed Keyork with exasperating calm.
"What is it that you most want him to forget?"
"You cannot mean----"
"I can, and I do.
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