“REMEMBER,” said Herb, “you have to wear the blindfold.”
“All right,” said Lorna.
Actually, she liked the idea of wearing a blindfold, liked the mystery, looked forward to the surprise, loved Herb’s obvious delight over the apartment he’d found, took pleasure from his pleasure, and took pleasure from the fact (and there was no doubt, could be no doubt, that it was a fact) that he wanted to please her, wanted her to be as happy with the place he’d found as he was. She tied the blindfold, Herb’s scarf, around her head, and arranged it so that she couldn’t see.
“You’re smiling,” said Herb.
“I’m happy,” said Lorna. “This reminds me of closing my eyes when we were out on the lake the night we burned the ballroom.”
“Here we are,” said Herb. He stopped the car, leaped out, ran around to Lorna’s door, and helped her out. He led her to the door of the house. He didn’t have to knock. Mrs. Mixup — so she called herself, giving in to the inability or unwillingness of the people she met to pronounce Mikszath — had been watching for their arrival. She opened the door silently, and silently Herb led Lorna along the hallway, through the first door, through the second, narrower, hallway, and through the second door, which he closed behind them.
“And now,” he said, working at the knot Lorna had made in his scarf, “we can take the blindfold off.” He pulled it away, and Lorna gasped. For a terrible moment, Herb thought that he’d failed completely to see the place through Lorna’s eyes, thought that her gasp was a sign of revulsion, but that passed, passed as quickly as it had come. She clapped her hands, she whirled around, she moved from one part of the room to another, drawing deep breaths, beaming.
“It’s so bright!” she said. “And it’s so — tiny.”
“It is small,” said Herb, uncertain again.
“Not small,” said Lorna. “Tiny. It’s wonderful. It’s like playing house, just like playing house. And look! Roses outside the window!”
“You like it,” said Herb.
“I love it,” said Lorna. She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck.
“There is a drawback,” said Herb.
“What?” asked Lorna.
Herb reached behind him and opened the door. In the dark, narrow hallway, Lorna saw a bony white-haired woman, wiping her hands on an apron, and, behind her, a bent man who bobbed slightly and moved his mouth but said nothing. Herb grimaced and shifted his eyes from Lorna’s. “I’d like you to meet the Mikszaths,” he said.
“Why, hello,” said Lorna.
“Such a lovely girl,” said Mrs. Mikszath. She rushed forward and took Lorna’s hands. “A lovely girl, isn’t she, Miklos?”
“Dut, dut, dut,” said Miklos.
“I think I should show you — um — the entrance,” said Herb. He took Lorna by the hand and led her into the narrow hallway. The Mikszaths retreated before them, backing toward the front door.
“Lovely,” said Mrs. Mikszath, again and again.
“Dut, dut, dut,” said Mr. Mikszath.
In Topical Guide 302, Mark Dorset considers Flowers from this episode.
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