Concerning Thomas

The evening dragged along slowly. Mrs. Watson came to my bedroom
before I went to bed and asked if I had any arnica. She showed me a
badly swollen hand, with reddish streaks running toward the elbow; she
said it was the hand she had hurt the night of the murder a week
before, and that she had not slept well since. It looked to me as if
it might be serious, and I told her to let Doctor Stewart see it.

The next morning Mrs. Watson went up to town on the eleven train, and
was admitted to the Charity Hospital. She was suffering from
blood-poisoning. I fully meant to go up and see her there, but other
things drove her entirely from my mind. I telephoned to the hospital
that day, however, and ordered a private room for her, and whatever
comforts she might be allowed.

Mrs. Armstrong arrived Monday evening with her husband's body, and the
services were set for the next day. The house on Chestnut Street, in
town, had been opened, and Tuesday morning Louise left us to go home.
She sent for me before she went, and I saw she had been crying.

"How can I thank you, Miss Innes?" she said. "You have taken me on
faith, and--you have not asked me any questions. Some time, perhaps, I
can tell you; and when that time comes, you will all despise
me,--Halsey, too."

I tried to tell her how glad I was to have had her but there was
something else she wanted to say. She said it finally, when she had
bade a constrained good-by to Halsey and the car was waiting at the
door.