"Lord have mercy!" gasped Liddy, and turned to run.
Sometimes, when I am bored, I ring for Liddy, and we talk things over.
I am talking of renting a house next year, and Liddy says to be sure there is no ghost.
"Liddy," I called, "go through the house at once and see who is missing, or if any one is.
Liddy still clings to her ghost theory, and points to my wet and muddy boots in the trunk-room as proof.
There will be two weddings before long, and Liddy has asked for my heliotrope poplin to wear to the church.
So we sit and talk, and sometimes Liddy threatens to leave, and often I discharge her, but we stay together somehow.
Of that story of Thomas', about seeing Jack Bailey in the footpath between the club and Sunnyside, the night Liddy and I heard the noise on the circular staircase--that, too, was right.
The note Liddy had found in Gertrude's scrap-basket was from him, and it was he who had startled me into unconsciousness by the clothes chute, and, with Gertrude's help, had carried me to Louise's room.