Then he nodded and shut it.
Suddenly Mr. Ganns laughed. The other's book reminded him of an
incident.
"A funny little thing happened yesterday afternoon that I forgot,"
he said. "I'd turned in, leaving my notebook by my head, when there
came a visitor to my room. I was asleep all right, but my heaviest
sleep won't hold through the noise of a fly on the windowpane; and
lying with my face to the door I heard a tiny sound and lifted one
eyelid. The door opened and Signor Doria put his nose in. I'd pulled
the blind, but there was plenty of light and he spotted my
vade-mecum lying on the bed table a couple of feet from my head.
Over he came as quiet as a spider, and I let him get within a yard.
Then I yawned and shifted. He was gone like a mosquito, and half an
hour later I heard him again. But I got up and he didn't do more
than listen outside. He wanted that book bad--you can guess how
bad."
For two days Mr. Ganns declared that he must rest; and then there
came an evening when he privately invited Doria to take a walk.
Pages:
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391