9 <2> THE UNTIMELY DEMISE OF RAY PLOTE Later that night after the dishes were washed and the garbage taken out, Lucy and the Beck's natural daughter retired to their shared bedroom. "Ah! you are there, my dear young lady," said the widow, smiling faintly; "when I first waken, I'm always in dread of finding myself again in that horrible asylum. Hell's curses! that after all my precautions I should be thus entrapped. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. I came to the Beck’s house. Her curiosity was insatiable, her dreams filled with happy speculation over what hair color her babies would inherit. " "We shall expect you to-morrow," insinuated Mrs.
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