The twelve feet looked short from
below, but they were difficult to climb. I gathered my silk gown
around me, and succeeded finally in making the top of the ladder.
Once there, however, I was completely out of breath. I sat down,
my feet on the top rung, and put my hair pins in more securely,
while the wind bellowed my dressing-gown out like a sail. I had
torn a great strip of the silk loose, and now I ruthlessly
finished the destruction of my gown by jerking it free and tying
it around my head.
From far below the smallest sounds came up with peculiar
distinctness. I could hear the paper boy whistling down the
drive, and I heard something else. I heard the thud of a stone,
and a spit, followed by a long and startled meiou from Beulah.
I forgot my fear of a height, and advanced boldly almost to
the edge of the roof.
It was half-past six by that time, and growing dusk.
"You boy, down there!" I called.
The paper boy turned and looked around. Then, seeing nobody, he
raised his eyes. It was a moment before he located me: when he
did, he stood for one moment as if paralyzed, then he gave a
horrible yell, and dropping his papers, bolted across the lawn to
the road without stopping to look around. Once he fell, and his
impetus was so great that he turned an involuntary somersault.
He was up and off again without any perceptible pause, and he
leaped the hedge--which I am sure under ordinary stress would
have been a feat for a man.
Pages:
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255