I returo my o moving as slos. Noterfered y cat’t er’s stave umbling from trade ty air to tte, not daring to ask for a drag. t must t notory suggests t Emmeline er Emmelihen who? Isabelle was dead. Charlie was gone.
I came to my rooms, in, stood by t oo dark to see; tion, a pale s t.
At last I listeo t, persistent voi my I rying to ignore. Adeline.
No, I said.
Yes, it said. Adeline.
It possible. till fres if so cry tears for?
But ted episode after episode from tory I knearden, eaco Jo. ttameliering, ting. tor a carelessly, to die or to be found. One of t quite rig possible? ears I nessed been tears of guilt? tears of remorse? as it a murderess I ed? as t Miss inter suspi revealed itself to me. as t of Miss inter’s story? to make me sympate her, five her? I shivered.
But o least I ormented body against mine and kne only broken love cause suco Joer to life by getting o teaco pruopiary.
topiary she had damaged.
O sure after all!
My eyes roamed over tside t o Joence for t?
I rubbed my tired eyes and kneo bed. But I oo tired to sleep. My ts, if I did noto stop t long. I decided to h.
ed for tub to fill, I cast about for someto occupy my mind. A ball of paper able caugtention. I unfolded it, flatte out. A ro.
I-lived attempts at pig some kind of meaning out of my string of symbols. Al undermining feeling t I captured Emmeline’s utterance quite accurately. I pictured t garden, tortions of tcesque, urgent face; I ness of Emmeline’s voice. But ried, I could not recall t itself.
I climbed into ter, o my feet, legs, back, felt distinctly cainst t u to top of my er rang in my ears, my ed from its roots.
I came up for air, tantly plunged underer again. More air, ter.
In a loose, underer fass began to so kno it otally ied. In t s of both.
Air. ater.
Introduced distortions. In tonation, maybe. Or times extra bits, added to camouflage rato carry meaning.
Air. ater.
A puzzle. A secret code. A cryptograp be as ian o go about it? take eacely. It could be a of a onation first. Play ress. Experiment ening, flattening t did t in Englis if you left it out and played ead? t number of possible binations. t not an infinite number. A puting mac. So could a wo.
the dead go underground.
? I sat bolt uprigo me out of nowhere.
t painfully in my c. It couldn’t be!
trembling, I reay jottings, and dreo me. Anxiously I sed it. My notes, my symbols and signs, my squiggles and dots, ting in a pool of er and had drowned.
I tried once more to remember to me underer. But t, i fad te sequence s.
t rail be trie up of nowhere?
I didn’t actually believe t t so me, did I?
e on, be sensible, I told myself.
I reaco put my underer imaginings out of my mind.
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