Well do I remember how Carl installed himself here last year with a Japanese servant and invited that good-looking Wherry boy to come and scratch the furniture.
I don't suppose Carl invited him for that purpose," added Aunt Agatha fairly, "but he did it, anyway.

I can't for the life of me see why it is that young Mr.Wherry is perpetually making scratches where his feet rest.

And I'm sure he left his footprint on the piano and thundered through every roll on the player, for they're all out of place, and the Williston caretaker heard him, though like as not it was Carl for that matter.

He's a Westfall, and he'd do it if he felt like it, dear knows! Though I must say Carl detests bangy music." Still rambling, Aunt Agatha, having fussed considerably over the extraction of the key, halted in the hallway, appalled by the utter loneliness of the darkened rooms.

Beyond in the library a clock boomed loudly through the quiet.