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Rh "I'm frightened . . . I feel so anxious. . . ."

"What about?"

"About things . . . that may happen."

"Where?"

"In our house."

"What can happen?"

"Things, sad things."

"Auntie, this is nonsense!"

"I can't help it, dear. . . . I'm frightened . . . I'm frightened. . . ."

"Tell me, Auntie, you don't like the house, do you?"

"It's not that."

"But the house oppresses you."

"No, it's not that, child. . . . Uncle and Addie like the house. . . . And I'm getting used to it. . . ."

"Tell me, Auntie: they say . . ."

"What?"

"That the house is . . ."

She looked at Constance meaningly.

"Darling, darling, it's not that. . . . It's an old house. . . . We never talk of that. . . ."

" But it may be just that that depresses you."

"It did at first . . . but I'm getting used to it. . . . Addie is so very calm and communicates all his calmness to us. . . . What appears inexplicable . . . is perhaps quite simple. . . . But that's not it. . . . I'm frightened . . . frightened of . . ."

"Of what?"

"Of what I fear . . . will happen."

"And what do you fear?"

"Things that I can't put into words . . . some great sorrow."

"Why, Auntie? . . . Why should it happen?