little thing!

I looked at the clock. It was a quarter after four, and except for
the occasional crunch of one ice-cake hitting another in the yard,
everything was quiet. And then I heard the stealthy sound of oars in
the lower hall.

I am not a brave woman. I lay there, hoping Mr. Reynolds would hear
and open his door. But he was sleeping soundly. Peter snarled and ran
out into the hall, and the next moment I heard Mr. Ladley speaking.
"Down, Peter," he said. "Down. Go and lie down."

I took my candle and went out into the hall. Mr. Ladley was stooping
over the boat, trying to tie it to the staircase. The rope was short,
having been cut, and he was having trouble. Perhaps it was the
candle-light, but he looked ghost-white and haggard.

"I borrowed your boat, Mrs. Pitman," he said, civilly enough. "Mrs.
Ladley was not well, and I--I went to the drug store."

"You've been more than two hours going to the drug store," I said.

He muttered something about not finding any open at first, and went
into his room. He closed and locked the door behind him, and although
Peter whined and scratched, he did not let him in.

He looked so agitated that I thought I had been harsh, and that
perhaps she was really ill. I knocked at the door, and asked if I
could do anything. But he only called "No" curtly through the door,
and asked me to take that infernal dog away.