My landlord was slipping
down the latch. He stared at seeing me.
"Do not latch the door just yet: I am going out again," I said
simply.
"Going out! I thought, sir, it was you as just now come in."
"Yes, but I must go out again:--it is important."
He evidently thought me mad; and so indeed I was.
"What, sir, in that dress? You've got no hat--no--"
I had forgotten. "True," I said; "get me a hat and coat."
He stared and then ran upstairs for them. Returning he said, "I have
got you these, sir; but I can't find them as you usually wears."
"Those will do," I answered. "I must have left the others at the
theatre."
This reduced him to utter speechlessness. Mutely he helped me to don
the cloak over my thin evening dress. I slipped the tin box and the
key into the pockets. As I stepped out once more into the night, my
landlord found his speech.
"When will you be back, sir?"
The question startled me for a moment; for a second or two I
hesitated.
"I asked because you have no latch-key, as I suppose you left it in
your other coat.
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