In a Shallow Grave Page 11
“Well,” Quintus replied, taking off his new jacket and the gold tie and clasp, “after all, I am as you always say a Virginia boy, and I thought I’d stay with you until your wedding with the Widow takes place at least . . .”
“That’ll be a long stay, then, Quints . . . Did you hear in town too how she has applicants and sends them here with letters to be read to me, just like the position I was in once . . . ?”
I heard Quintus’ old laugh then, and I almost laughed myself, but stopped . . .
“I wonder why he never has appeared to me, Quintus,” I started up, going back to his having seen the apparition in Mexico . . . “When I wanted it so . . . When . . .”
“Well,” Quintus spoke, eyeing me a little concernedly, but taking off his shoes and rubbing his own feet now, “maybe, Garnet, it’s because he figures he’s with you all the time anyhow . . .”
“Oh, I see,” I said hopefully. “Well maybe that’s the way it has to be after all.”
The screen door moved under the April breeze, and I could just visualize the first peach blossoms that would be coming out in not too many days, and I took another look at Quintus’ togs and his big gold watch with the chain spread over his broad chest. I listened then also to hear if the ocean would make any kind of comment on the prodigal’s return, but no matter how I pricked up my ears, as Quintus went off into his own part of the house to turn in, strain as I would I couldn’t hear another sound at all of any kind outside. Of course it was terrible late, and calm this time of night, and the last of the bad weather was past.