"Are you staying at Burleigh's?" he asked.
"I am," Van Berg replied.
"Do you know a young lady boarding there with large dark eyes and
auburn hair?"
"I do."
"Is there--is there anything wrong about her?"
"Why should there be? Why do you ask?"
"She has just been in here, and she looked sick and strangely, and
all she wanted was a large phial of laudanum. Somehow her looks
and purchase have made me uneasy. I never saw so white a face in
my life, and she seemed weak and very tired. If she's sick, how
comes it she's walking to the village? Besides, she seemed to have
very little to do with the party she joined after leaving here."
Van Berg controlled himself only by a powerful effort, and was very
glad that the brim of his soft hat concealed the pallor of his own
face. He managed to say quietly:
"The young lady you describe has not been well, and has probably
found the walk longer and more wearisome than she supposed. As
for the laudanum, that's used in many ways. Some cigars, if you
please--thank you. I'll join the lady and see that she reaches home
safely," and he hastily left the store and walked swiftly away.
"He wouldn't go as fast as that if he wasn't a little uneasy, too,"
muttered the druggist, whose dearth of business gave him abundant
leisure to see all that was going on, and to imagine much more.
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