Miss Theodosia but failed to do so. Afterward, in the house again, among
her irons, she was startled.

"I was going by and saw her--you can tell a sleepwalker by the way one
walks. Glides. Now, when I lift her, gently support her head--that's it.
Forward, march!"

"This way," Miss Theodosia directed in a whisper, though he was already
moving this way. Shadow Man that he was, he stepped earthily, with thuds
of his feet on the grass. Miss Theodosia's footsteps were soft echoes.
So they came to the little House of Flaggs.

"There's a light in that inside room, and I can see a bed. I'll lay her
down, and you can go in afterward--and--er--smooth her out."

"Yes--yes, I'll wait out here," whispered Miss Theodosia with a curious
solemnity in her face. Rome, nor Paris, nor Anywhere had offered
adventure like this--not like this. Miss Theodosia had an odd feeling
that this, too, was a dream--and a John. Would they all wake up
together?

"Sound as a nut--never knew what hit her! But she wants straightening.
New work for me; I'm not used to putting kiddies to bed."

"Oh, I'm not either!" breathed Miss Theodosia, "but I might straighten
one. I don't suppose you--you kissed her thumbs? Of course not!" She
laughed softly. "But I shall."

Now it was the Shadow Man's turn to laugh with a funny, explosive little
effect as though he were not used to muffling his laughs,--as if this