She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. Startled by this circumstance, he looked around, and perceived that the trap-door,—which has been mentioned as communicating with a secret staircase,—was open. She was civil, but she was obviously impatient to know his errand. When she got back to her questions again in the monotonous high-road that led up the hill, she found the image of Mr. Happy Thanksgiving. ’ A question leapt into Everett’s head and he recalled the letter to the Abbess.
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