Marrapit told her. "Banish apprehension. There
are thieves; but we are alert."
The head withdrew. Mrs. Major gave a tiny scream: "Thieves!" She took
a brisk little run down the short flight which gave from where she
stood; flattened against the wall that checked her impulse; pressed
carefully away from it; stood at the head of the stairs facing Mr.
Marrapit.
He gazed up. "I fear you have been walking in your sleep, Mrs. Major."
Mrs. Major did not reply. She pointed a slippered toe at the stair
below her; swayed on one leg; dropped to the toe; steadied; beamed at
Mr. Marrapit; and in a high treble coquettishly announced, "_One_!"
Mr. Marrapit frowned: "Retire, Mrs. Major."
Mrs. Major plumped another step, beamed again: "_Two_!"
"You dream. Retire."
Mrs. Major daintily lifted her skirt; poised again. The projected
slipper swayed a dangerous circle. Mrs. Major alarmingly rocked. That
infamous Old Tom presented three sets of banisters for her support;
she clutched at one; it failed her; "Three four five six seven eight
nine ten--_darling_!" she cried; at breakneck speed plunged downwards,
and with the "_Darling_!" flung her arms about Mr. Marrapit's neck.
Back before the shock, staggering beneath the weight, Mr. Marrapit
went with digging heels. They could not match the pace of that swift
blow upon his chest.
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