"'I'll draw out all my capital,' says I.
"'I hope really you won't,' says she, 'till I've been there,' an' she leans out of the open winder to look into the street; but while she was a-lookin' out I see her left hand a-creepin' up to the gas by the winder that wasn't lighted. I felt mad enough to take her by the feet an' pitch her out, as you an' the boarder," said Pomona, turning to me, "h'isted me out of the canal-boat winder."
This, by the way, is the first intimation we had had that Pomona knew how she came to fall out of that window.
"But I didn't do it," she continued, "for there wasn't no soft water underneath for her to fall into. After we went to bed I kep' awake for a long time, bein' afraid she'd get up in the night an' turn on all the gases an' smother me alive. But I fell asleep at last, an' when I woke up, early in the mornin', the first thing I did was to feel for that lunertic. But she was gone!"
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