and, after lingering a
moment to see that it contained no cupboards or corners into which a
person might have crept for concealment, I made haste to shut the door,
and went downstairs again to bed. Evidently I had been deceived after
all as to the noise.

In the night I had a foolish but very vivid dream. I dreamed that the
landlady and another person, dark and not properly visible, entered my
room on all fours, followed by a horde of immense cats. They attacked me
as I lay in bed, and murdered me, and then dragged my body upstairs and
deposited it on the floor of that cold little square room under the
roof.

* * * * *

Nov. 11.--Since my talk with Emily--the unfinished talk--I have hardly
once set eyes on her. Mrs. Monson now attends wholly to my wants. As
usual, she does everything exactly as I don't like it done. It is all
too utterly trivial to mention, but it is exceedingly irritating. Like
small doses of morphine often repeated she has finally a cumulative
effect.

* * * * *

Nov. 12.--This morning I woke early, and came into the front room to get
a book, meaning to read in bed till it was time to get up. Emily was
laying the fire.

"Good morning!" I said cheerfully. "Mind you make a good fire. It's very
cold."

The girl turned and showed me a startled face. It was not Emily at all!

"Where's Emily?" I exclaimed.

"You mean the girl as was 'ere before me?"

"Has Emily left?"

"I came on the 6th," she replied sullenly, "and she'd gone then." I got
my book and went back to bed. Emily must have been sent away almost
immediately after our conversation. This reflection kept coming between
me and the printed page. I was glad when it was time to get up. Such
prompt energy, such merciless decision, seemed to argue something of
importance--to somebody.

* * * * *

Nov. 13.--The wound inflicted by the cat's claw has swollen, and causes
me annoyance and some pain. It throbs and itches. I'm afraid my blood
must be in poor condition, or it would have healed by now. I opened it
with a penknife soaked in an antiseptic solution, and cleaned it
thoroughly. I have heard unpleasant stories of the results of wounds
inflicted by cats.

* * * * *

Nov. 14.--In spite of the curious effect this house certainly exercises
upon my nerves, I like it. It is lonely and deserted in the very heart
of L