Some time during the early part of the night I wakened,
and, after turning and twisting uneasily, I realized
that I was cold. The couch in Bella’s dressing
room was comfortable enough, but narrow and low.
I remember distinctly (that was what was so maddening;
everybody thought I dreamed it)—I remember
getting an eiderdown comfort that was folded at my
feet, and pulling it up around me. In the luxury
of its warmth I snuggled down and went to sleep almost
instantly. It seemed to me I had slept for hours,
but it was probably an hour or less, when something
roused me. The room was perfectly dark, and there
was not a sound save the faint ticking of the clock,
but I was wide awake.
And then came the incident that in its ghastly, horrible
absurdity made the rest of the people shout with laughter
the next day. It was not funny then. For
suddenly the eiderdown comfort began to slip.
I heard no footstep, not the slightest sound approaching
me, but the comfort moved; from my chin, inch by inch,
it slipped to my shoulders; awfully, inevitably, hair-raisingly
it moved. I could feel my blood gather around
my heart, leaving me cold and nerveless. As it
passed my hands I gave an involuntary clutch for it,
to feel it slip away from my fingers. Then the
full horror of the situation took hold of me; as the
comfort slid past my feet I sat up and screamed at
the top of my voice.
Of course, people came running in all sorts of things.
I was still sitting up, declaring I had seen a ghost
and that the house was haunted. Dallas was struggling
for the second armhole of his dressing gown and Bella
had already turned on the lights. They said I
had had a nightmare, and not to sleep on my back, and
perhaps I was taking grippe.
And just then we heard Jimmy run down the stairs,
and fall over something, almost breaking his wrist.
It was the eiderdown comfort, half-way up the studio
staircase!
Chapter XIII. HE DOES NOT DENY IT
Aunt Selina got up the next morning and Jim told her
all the strange things that had been happening.
She fixed on Flannigan, of course, although she still
suspected Betty of her watch and other valuables.
The incident of the comfort she called nervous indigestion
and bad hours.
She spent the entire day going through the storeroom
and linen closets, and running her fingers over things
for dust. Whenever she found any she looked at
me, drew a long breath, and said, “Poor James!”
It was maddening. And when she went through his
clothes and found some buttons off (Jim didn’t
keep a man, and Takahiro had stopped at his boots)
she looked at me quite awfully.
“His mother was a perfect housekeeper,”
she said. “James was brought up in clothes
with the buttons on, put on clean shelves.”
“Didn’t they put them on him?” I
asked, almost hysterically. It had been a bad
morning, after a worse night. Every one had found
fault with the breakfast, and they straggled down one
at a time until I was frantic. Then Flannigan
had talked to me about the pearls, and Mr. Harbison
had said, “Good morning,” very stiffly,
and nearly rattled the inside of the furnace out.
