Explore "Feathers Left Around" by Carolyn Wells on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
IT was shortly before midnight that Valentine Loft received that telephone message. The rest of the household had retired, and Loft was himself preparing for bed.
"Mary Malden," he said to himself, as he hung up the receiver. "I might have guessed it! Just the place for her, too. Now, let's see -- " He looked at his watch. "Just about twelve. I suppose I ought to tell Stone I'm going, -- but I hate to waken him. Poor chap, he's been working hard today. Fibsy, -- that's the ticket! He won't mind."