Free Evidence of Things Seen by Elizabeth Daly

I mean some people think she’s a murderer!”
    â€œPut that stuff out of your mind, put it right out!” Hunter addressed his wife sternly. “It’s nonsense, it always was nonsense.” He consulted his watch. “Five of ten; Clara, you and I must soon bid Fanny good night.”
    â€œOh, Heavens, I forgot the Grobys!” Clara went into the living room, and found the Grobys’ number; Mr. Groby answered in a tone of boredom—he evidently did not recognize Clara’s voice, and was bored by his wife’s friends. He went away and got Mrs. Groby, who sounded impatient.
    â€œYes? What is it? What is it?”
    Clara explained that Miss Radford had had an accident.
    â€œAn accident!” screamed Mrs. Groby.
    â€œYes, her ankle is broken, but she’s going to be all right. We have her here in the cottage, and Dr. Knapp’s seen her, and he’ll have her moved to the farm in the morning.”
    â€œMy goodness, Mrs. Gamadge, Walter and I had better come out.”
    â€œYou really needn’t, Mrs. Groby; the Hunters are here with me, and we are taking good care of her.”
    â€œWhat on earth happened to her?”
    â€œThe buggy tipped over.”
    â€œWell, I think you’re being fine about it, and we have this party here—supper and bridge; but Aunt Alvira won’t like it if we—”
    â€œShe’s sound asleep under morphia. She probably won’t wake up till morning.”
    Clara thought there was a slight scuffle at the other end of the wire; but Mrs. Groby kept hold of the telephone. She said: “I’d insist on coming, if we didn’t have these friends.”
    At this point Mr. Groby evidently succeeded in shoving his wife aside. He spoke with polite deference: “Good evening, Mrs. Gamadge. This is a kind of a mix-up for you, from what I can hear.”
    â€œNot at all. There are four of us—”
    â€œMighty kind of the Hunters; mighty kind. Tell him we appreciate it. We sort of feel that my wife’s place is at her aunt’s bedside; are you sure there are no complications?”
    â€œDr. Knapp says not, but of course she’ll have a thorough examination tomorrow.”
    â€œI’d drive Hattie out, party or no party, but they’re business friends; it’s business for me. Would it be too much to ask you not to tell Alvira that you called us?”
    Clara was somewhat taken aback. “Not tell her?”
    â€œIn the morning. She’s a little sensitive—touchy.”
    â€œOh, I see. I won’t mention it unless she asks.”
    â€œWell, thanks for everything; see you in the morning.”
    Clara, rather annoyed, went into the dining room to find Hunter placing a lamp on the end of the table, not six feet from the bedroom door. She said: “They want me to take the blame for their not coming out tonight.”
    â€œOf course they do,” said Hunter cheerfully. He brought an easy chair from the living room, and placed it parallel to the sick-room door. “There we are. Light placed so that it doesn’t shine in on her, chair placed so that we can see her by turning our heads. Snug as you please; we can write letters, do a jigsaw puzzle, compose poetry.”
    Mrs. Hunter came down the dining-room stairway, in one of Clara’s dressing gowns. She said: “I’m all ready.”
    â€œYou won’t be lonely,” asked Clara, “sleeping upstairs? One of us will be right down here, and you know Maggie’s right at the top of the stairway outside your bedroom.”
    â€œOf course I shan’t be lonely, and while we’re here Phin will be just around the corner.”
    Maggie was sent to bed. Clara tilted the shade of the little lamp beside Miss Radford’s bed so that her face was in shadow, placed the two boxes of capsules ready, and got fresh drinking water. She settled Fanny to her book, left a sweater for her shoulders in case it