But we
must go slow with all this. There's no use shouting 'wolf' yet."
"But--the towel?"
"He may have cut himself, shaving. It _has_ been done."
"And the knife?"
He shrugged his shoulders good-naturedly.
"I've seen a perfectly good knife spoiled opening a bottle of
pickles."
"But the slippers? And the clock?"
"My good woman, enough shoes and slippers are forgotten in the bottoms
of cupboards year after year in flood-time, and are found floating
around the streets, to make all the old-clothesmen in town happy. I
have seen almost everything floating about, during one of these annual
floods."
"I dare say you never saw an onyx clock floating around," I replied a
little sharply. I had no sense of humor that day. He stopped smiling
at once, and stood tugging at his mustache.
"No," he admitted. "An onyx clock sinks, that's true. That's a very
nice little point, that onyx clock. He may be trying to sell it, or
perhaps--" He did not finish.
I went back immediately, only stopping at the market to get meat for
Mr.
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