Manchurian Books

And like a hunted criminal he condemned her, a moment later, to old
Mrs. Greenleaf.
"That kid from next door has been snooping in here. I caught her
trying to sneak out."
Missy faltered out her explanation.
"I know it wasn't your fault, dear," said old Mrs. Greenleaf kindly.
"What was it you wanted?"
Her errand forgotten, Missy could only attempt a smile and dumbly
extend the bouquet.
Old Mrs. Greenleaf took the flowers, then spoke over her shoulder:
"I think Helen wants you upstairs, Porter." Missy had always thought
she was like a Roman Matron; now it was upsetting to see the Roman
Matron so upset.
"Miss Helen's got a terrible headache and is lying down," said old
Mrs. Greenleaf, fussing over the flowers.
"Oh," said Missy, desperately tongue-tied and ill-at-ease.
For a long second it endured portentously still in the room and in
the world without; then like a sharp thunder-clap out of a summer
sky, a door slammed upstairs. There was a sound of someone running
down the steps, and Missy glimpsed Mr. Hackett going out the front
door, banging the screen after him.


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