"You
haven't the time, or I the patience for too many strokes of the
broom. And Mrs. Scoville," he called out as she slipped through
the doorway, "leave the door open and keep away as much as
possible from the side of the room where I have nailed up the
curtain. I had rather not have that touched."
She turned with a smile and nodded. She felt that she had been set
to work with a string tied round her feet. Not touch the curtain!
Why, that was the one thing in the room she wanted to touch; for
in it she not only saw the carpet which had been taken up from the
floor of the study, but a possible screen behind which anything
might lurk--even his redoubtable secret.
Or had it another and much simpler explanation? Might it not have
been hung there merely as a shield to the window. The room must
have a window and there was none to be seen elsewhere. It would be
like him to shut out light and air. She would ask.
"There is no window," she observed, looking back at the judge.
"No," was his short reply.
Slowly she set down her pail. One thing was settled. It was Bela's
cot she saw before her--a cot without any sheets. These had been
left behind in the dead negro's room, and the judge had been
sleeping just as she had feared, wrapped in a rug and with
uncovered pillow. This pillow was his own; it had not been brought
down with the bed. She hastily slipped a cover on it, and without
calling any further attention to her act, began to make up the
bed.
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