Summaries : THE OPEN WINDOW
Framton wondered whether Mrs Sappleton, the lady to whom he
was presenting one of the letters of introduction, came into the
nice division.
“Do you know many of the people round here?” asked the niece,
when she judged that they had had sufficient silent communion.
“Hardly a soul,” said Framton. “My sister was staying here, some
four years ago, and she gave me letters of introduction to some of
the people here.”
He made the last statement in a tone of distinct regret.
“Then you know practically nothing about my aunt?” pursued
the self-possessed young lady.
“Only her name and address,” admitted the caller. He was
wondering whether Mrs Sappleton was in the married or widowed
state. An undefinable something about the room seemed to suggest
masculine habitation.
“Her great tragedy happened just three years ago,” said the child,
“that would be since your sister’s time.”
“Her tragedy?” asked Framton. Somehow in this restful country
spot tragedies seemed out of place.
“You may wonder why we keep that window wide open on an
October afternoon,” said the niece, indicating a large French window
that opened on to a lawn.
“It is quite warm for the time of the year,” said Framton, “but has
that window got anything to do with the tragedy?”
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it's enough this is so and very long question I's this a poem.
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