CHAPTER VIII.
"COME, MY CORINNA, COME!" Miss Marty drew aside her window curtain to watch the rising moon.
She could not sleep.

Knowing that she would not be able to sleep, she had not undressed.
She gazed out upon the street, dark now and deserted.

No light signalled to her from the attic window behind which Dr.Hansombody so often sat late over his books and butterfly cases.

He had gone with the others.
She listened.

The house was silent save for the muffled snoring of Scipio in his cupboard-bedroom under the stairs.