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Chapter 11

           

           Iheardthemicetoo,rattlingbehindthepanels,asifthesameoccurrencewereimportanttotheirinterests.Buttheblackbeetlestooknonoticeoftheagitation,andgropedaboutthehearthinaponderouselderlyway,asiftheywereshort-sightedandhardofhearing,andnotontermswithoneanother.

           Thesecrawlingthingshadfascinatedmyattention,andIwaswatchingthemfromadistance,whenMissHavishamlaidahanduponmyshoulder.Inherotherhandshehadacrutch-headedstickonwhichsheleaned,andshelookedliketheWitchoftheplace.

           "This,"saidshe,pointingtothelongtablewithherstick,"iswhereIwillbelaidwhenIamdead.Theyshallcomeandlookatmehere."

           Withsomevaguemisgivingthatshemightgetuponthetablethenandthereanddieatonce,thecompleterealizationoftheghastlywaxworkattheFair,Ishrankunderhertouch.

           "Whatdoyouthinkthatis?"sheaskedme,againpointingwithherstick;"that,wherethosecobwebsare?"

           "Ican’tguesswhatitis,ma’am."

           "It’sagreatcake.Abride-cake.Mine!"

           Shelookedallroundtheroominaglaringmanner,andthensaid,leaningonmewhileherhandtwitchedmyshoulder,"Come,come,come!Walkme,walkme!"

           Imadeoutfromthis,thattheworkIhadtodo,wastowalkMissHavishamroundandroundtheroom.

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