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8. Strange Doings For George
That evening George sat so long over the newspapers that in spite of my
absorbing interest in the topic engrossing me, I fell asleep in my cozy little
rocking chair. I was awakened by what seemed like a kiss falling very softly on
my forehead, though, to be sure, it may have been only the flap of George's coat
sleeve as he stooped over me.
"Wake up, little woman," I heard, "and trot away to bed. I'm going out and may
not be in till daybreak."
"You! going out! at ten o'clock at night, tired as you are--as we both are! What
This broken exclamation escaped me as I perceived in the dim background by
the sitting-room door, the figure of a man who called up recent, but very thrilling
"Mr. Sweetwater," explained George. "We are going out together. It is necessary,
or you may be sure I should not leave you."
I was quite wide awake enough by now to understand. "Oh, I know. You are
going to hunt up the man. How I wish--"
But George did not wait for me to express my wishes. He gave me a little good
advice as to how I had better employ my time in his absence, and was off before
I could find words to answer.
This ends all I have to say about myself; but the events of that night carefully
related to me by George are important enough for me to describe them, with all
the detail which is their rightful due. I shall tell the story as I have already been
led to do in other portions of this narrative, as though I were present and shared