I remember closing my eyes and leaning my head against the
window-shutter. I suppose I was tired after the wakefulness of the
night. Anyhow, I must have fallen asleep and slept a couple of hours.
When I began to wake the sky had become gloomy and overcast, but it was
as hot as ever, and there was some one talking close at hand, a low,
quiet talking which at first mixed with my dreams and was a part of
them.
Presently I recognized the fact that I must have fallen asleep over the
letter to Theobald, and also that the voice, the voices, near me were
those of my grandfather and grandmother.
I had no intention to eavesdrop, but I was drowsy and for a moment or
two I nodded again.
"But why should Luke have borrowed money from Jasper Tuite?" my
grandmother said. "He could have had what he liked from us."
"He had as handsome an allowance as I could afford to give him," my
grandfather said, "and he knew that he could have come to me in a
difficulty."
"And why should Garret Dawson spring it on us at this time of day?" my
grandmother went on. "Why should he frighten us with it now that we are
old, and have no son to lean upon?"
"Because he wants the money, and I wonder he has gone without it so
long.
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