"It is gone." A great sigh came from her.
Mechanically she put down the candle, smoothed the pillows of her bed,
adjusted the coverings, and prepared to lie down; but, with a sudden
impulse, she turned to the window and the door.
"It is gone," she said again. With a little laugh of hushed triumph, she
turned and made again the cabalistic sign at the bed, where the Thing had
first assaulted her, and then at that point in the room near the door
where she had felt it crouching.
"Oh, Ewie Gal," she added, speaking to that Romany Sage long since laid
to rest in the Roumelian country, "you did not talk to me for nothing.
You were right--yes, you were right, old Ewie Gal. It was there,"--she
looked again at the place where the Thing had been--"and your curse drove
it away."
With confidence she went to the door and unlocked it. Going to the
window she opened it also, but she compromised sufficiently to open it
at the top instead of at the bottom. Presently she laid her head on her
pillow with a sigh of content.
Once again she composed herself to sleep in the darkness. But now there
came other invasions, other disturbers of the night.
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