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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"The Turmoil, a novel"

Roscoe Sheridan,
bareheaded, emerged from the shadow into the light of the doorway.
"Good gracious!" she cried. "It did give me a fright!"
"It's Mrs. Sheridan, isn't it?" Mrs. Vertrees was perplexed by this
informal appearance, but she reflected that it might be providential.
"Won't you come in?"
"No. Oh no, thank you!" Sibyl panted, pressing her hand to her side.
"You don't know what a fright you've given me! And it was nothing
but your piano!" She laughed shrilly. "You know, since our tragedy
coming so suddenly the other day, you have no idea how upset I've been
--almost hysterical! And I just glanced out of the window, a minute
or so ago, and saw your door wide open and black figures of men
against the light, carrying something heavy, and I almost fainted.
You see, it was just the way it looked when I saw them bringing my
poor brother-in-law in, next door, only such a few short days ago.
And I thought I'd seen your daughter start for a drive with Bibbs
Sheridan in a car about three o'clock--and-- They aren't back yet,
are they?"
"No. Good heavens!"
"And the only thing I could think of was that something must have
happened to them, and I just dashed over--and it was only your PIANO!"
She broke into laughter again.


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