ROBERTS: "Or Aunt Mary?"
MILLER, calling up: "Well, are you going to keep us here all night?
Why don't you do something?"
MRS. MILLER: "Oh, what's that? Oh, it's Mr. Miller! Oh, where are
you, Ellery?"
MILLER: "In the elevator."
MRS. MILLER: "Oh! and where is the elevator? Why don't you get out?
Oh" -
MILLER: "It's caught, and we can't."
MRS. MILLER: "Caught? Oh, then you will be killed--killed--killed!
And it's all my fault, sending you back after my fan, and I had it
all the time in my own pocket; and it comes from my habit of giving
it to you to carry in your overcoat pocket, because it's deep, and
the fan can't break. And of course I never thought of my own pocket,
and I never SHOULD have thought of it at all if Mr. Curwen hadn't
been going back to get Mrs. Curwen's glove, for he'd brought another
right after she'd sent him for a left, and we were all having such a
laugh about it, and I just happened to put my hand on my pocket, and
there I felt the fan. And oh, WHAT shall I do?" Mrs. Miller utters
these explanations and self-reproaches in a lamentable voice, while
crouching close to the grated door to the elevator shaft, and
clinging to its meshes.
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