“‘Oh,’saidshe,inherplayfulway,‘yousaidthatyouwereonlymybanker,andbankersneveraskquestions,youknow.’
“‘Ifyoureallymeanit,ofcourseyoushallhavethemoney,’saidI.
“‘Oh,yes,Ireallymeanit.’
“‘Andyouwon’ttellmewhatyouwantitfor?’
“‘Someday,perhaps,butnotjustatpresent,Jack.’
“SoIhadtobecontentwiththat,thoughitwasthefirsttimethattherehadeverbeenanysecretbetweenus.Igaveheracheck,andIneverthoughtanymoreofthematter.Itmayhavenothingtodowithwhatcameafterwards,butIthoughtitonlyrighttomentionit.
“Well,Itoldyoujustnowthatthereisacottagenotfarfromourhouse.Thereisjustafieldbetweenus,buttoreachityouhavetogoalongtheroadandthenturndownalane.JustbeyonditisanicelittlegroveofScotchfirs,andIusedtobeveryfondofstrollingdownthere,fortreesarealwaysaneighbourlykindofthings.Thecottagehadbeenstandingemptythiseightmonths,anditwasapity,foritwasaprettytwo-storiedplace,withanold-fashionedporchandhoneysuckleaboutit.Ihavestoodmanyatimeandthoughtwhataneatlittlehomesteaditwouldmake.
“Well,lastMondayeveningIwastakingastrolldownthatway,whenImetanemptyvancomingupthelane,andsawapileofcarpetsandthingslyingaboutonthegrass-plotbesidetheporch.Itwasclearthatthecottagehadatlastbeenlet.Iwalkedpastit,andwonderedwhatsortoffolktheywerewhohadcometolivesonearus.AndasIlookedIsuddenlybecameawarethatafacewaswatchingmeoutofoneoftheupperwindows.
“Idon’tknowwhattherewasaboutthatface,Mr.Holmes,butitseemedtosendachillrightdownmyback.Iwassomelittlewayoff,sothatIcouldnotmakeoutthefeatures,buttherewassomethingunnaturalandinhumanabouttheface.ThatwastheimpressionthatIhad,andImovedquicklyforwardstogetanearerviewofthepersonwhowaswatchingme.ButasIdidsothefacesuddenlydisappeared,sosuddenlythatitseemedtohavebeenpluckedawayintothedarknessoftheroom.Istoodforfiveminutesthinkingthebusinessover,andtryingtoanalyzemyimpressions.Icouldnottellifthefacewerethatofamanorawoman.Ithadbeentoofarfrommeforthat.Butitscolourwaswhathadimpressedmemost.Itwasofalividchalkywhite,andwithsomethingsetandrigidaboutitwhichwasshockinglyunnatural.SodisturbedwasIthatIdeterminedtoseealittlemoreofthenewinmatesofthecottage.Iapproachedandknockedatthedoor,whichwasinstantlyopenedbyatall,gauntwomanwithaharsh,forbiddingface.
“‘Whatmayyoubewantin’?’sheasked,inaNorthernaccent.
“‘Iamyourneighbouroveryonder,’saidI,noddingtowardsmyhouse.‘Iseethatyouhaveonlyjustmovedin,soIthoughtthatifIcouldbeofanyhelptoyouinany—’
“‘Ay,we’lljustaskyewhenwewantye,’saidshe,andshutthedoorinmyface.Annoyedatthechurlishrebuff,Iturnedmybackandwalkedhome.Allevening,thoughItriedtothinkofotherthings,mymindwouldstillturntotheapparitionatthewindowandtherudenessofthewoman.Ideterminedtosaynothingabouttheformertomywife,forsheisanervous,highlystrungwoman,andIhadnowishthatshewouldsharetheunpleasantimpressionwhichhadbeenproduceduponmyself.Iremarkedtoher,however,beforeIfellasleep,thatthecottagewasnowoccupied,towhichshereturnednoreply.
“Iamusuallyanextremelysoundsleeper.Ithasbeenastandingjestinthefamilythatnothingcouldeverwakemeduringthenight.Andyetsomehowonthatparticularnight,whetheritmayhavebeentheslightexcitementproducedbymylittleadventureornotIknownot,butIsleptmuchmorelightlythanusual.HalfinmydreamsIwasdimlyconsciousthatsomethingwasgoingonintheroom,andgraduallybe