28/37 It's out of my way. She sits here from year's end to year's end, the old hag; her legs are bad and yet here all of a sudden she is out for a walk!" "Hadn't we better ask the porter ?" "What ?" "Where she's gone and when she'll be back." "Hm.... But you know she never does go anywhere." And he once more tugged at the door-handle. |