But one day he came to me. At once there came an answering knock. ” “Perhaps not,” she answered. A dreamy sense of content crept over him. There is no other way. The one nearest to her, which must lead to the library. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it.
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