I
suppose it's staying in-doors so much. I ain't used to it. I always take
a walk every afternoon. I'll wait and see if it gets better. If it
don't, I'll go and take a little walk along the shore. A mouthful of
fresh air will do me good."
Mrs. Sharpe waited accordingly, but the headache did not get better. On
the contrary, it grew so much worse that when the one-o'clock dinner was
ready, she was unable to eat a mouthful. She lay with her head on the
table in a sort of stupor.
"I think you had better take a walk," said Mrs. Oleander, who was not an
ill-natured old woman on the whole. "I don't want you to be laid up on
our hands."
Mrs. Sharpe glanced at the clock; it wanted a quarter of two. She rose
at once.
"I think I must, or I'll be fit for nothing for a week. I'll go and put
on my things."
In five minutes, Susan Sharpe walked out of the garden gate and down to
the shore. Old Peter closed the gate, watched her out of sight, and went
back to the house, unsuspectingly.
Mrs. Sharpe sauntered slowly over the sandy beach to the strip of dark
woods, skirted them, to avoid being seen from the windows of the house,
and called:
"Mr.
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