My wife has
got the knife--my wife is looking for me. I am above superstition, mind! I
don't say I believe in dreams; I only say, Alicia Warlock is looking for
me. It is possible I may be wrong. It is possible I may be right. Who can
tell?
THE THIRD NARRATIVE
THE STORY CONTINUED BY PERCY FAIRBANK
XIV
We took leave of Francis Raven at the door of Farleigh Hall, with the
understanding that he might expect to hear from us again.
The same night Mrs. Fairbank and I had a discussion in the sanctuary of
our own room. The topic was "The Hostler's Story"; and the question in
dispute between us turned on the measure of charitable duty that we owed
to the hostler himself.
The view I took of the man's narrative was of the purely matter-of-fact
kind. Francis Raven had, in my opinion, brooded over the misty connection
between his strange dream and his vile wife, until his mind was in a state
of partial delusion on that subject. I was quite willing to help him with
a trifle of money, and to recommend him to the kindness of my lawyer, if
he was really in any danger and wanted advice. There my idea of my duty
toward this afflicted person began and ended.
Confronted with this sensible view of the matter, Mrs. Fairbank's romantic
temperament rushed, as usual, into extremes. "I should no more think of
losing sight of Francis Raven when his next birthday comes round," says my
wife, "than I should think of laying down a good story with the last
chapters unread.
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