He had odd, absent ways, and talked more to himself, I believe, than to all the rest of the world put together.
She wont understand, he whispered, looking at me enquiringly. No, she wont. Will she?
Then there was a pause, during which he brought forth from his breast pocket a small bunch of some half-dozen keys, on one of which he looked frowningly, every now and then balancing it a little before his eyes, between his finger and thumb, as he deliberated.
I knew him too well, of course, to interpose a word.
They are easily frighteneday, they are. Id better do it another way.
And pausing, he looked in my face as he might upon a picture.
They areyesI had better do it another wayanother way; yesand shell not suspectshell not suppose.
Then he looked steadfastly upon the key, and from it to me, suddenly lifting it up, and said abruptly, See, child, and, after a second or two, Remember this key.
It was oddly shaped, and unlike others.
Yes, sir. I always called him sir.
It opens that, and he tapped it sharply on the door of the cabinet. In the daytime it is always here, at which word he dropped it into his pocket again. You see?and at night under my pillowyou hear me?
Yes, sir.
You wont forget this cabinetoaknext the dooron your leftyou wont forget?
No, sir.
Pity shes a girl, and so youngay, a girl, and so youngno sensegiddy. You say, youll remember?
Yes, sir.
It behoves you.
He turned round and looked full upon me, like a man who has taken a sudden resolution; and I think for a moment he had made up his mind to tell me a great deal more. But if so, he changed it again; and after another pause, he said slowly and sternlyYou will tell nobody what I have said, under pain of my displeasure.
Oh! no, sir!
Good child!
Except, he resumed, under one contingency; that is, in case I should be absent, and Dr. Bryerlyyou recollect the thin gentleman, in spectacles and a black wig, who spent three days here last monthshould come and enquire for the key, you understand, in my absence.
Yes, sir.
So he kissed me on the forehead, and said
Let us return.
Which, accordingly, we did, in silence; the storm outside, like a dirge on a great organ, accompanying our flitting.