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.And at the same time he has uprooted every paving stone from the path leading to his door and tossed them, higgledy-piggledy, to one side.To reach his front door I was obliged to trudge along the flattened earth where the stones had been, getting mud all over my shoes and the bottoms of my trousers.I considered it most careless and thoughtless of Keeney.Admittedly, sometimes the desire for change and alteration leads one to drastic action, but one has a duty to use a certain restraint and make sure that the changes are conducted with discretion so that they do not produce an unpleasant effect like that.It is surely unsuitable for a senior town official to reduce his home to such a filthy and depressing condition.By the time I reached the door, I was in an understandable state of apprehension.I was not looking forward to my task of reproaching Keeney with his laxness over the question of the building work.And other things disconcerted me too, though I did not notice them consciously at the time.When I got to the porch, the front door would not open—naturally I pushed it, and pushed again, but it would not yield.Can you imagine it? The man had, to all intents and purposes, locked his door, as if someone in the house were in the process of arriving or departing this earth.After my attempts to open the door I thought again and wondered if this were the case.But no one had visited us to tell us not to go to Keeney’s house.Mrs.Keeney had certainly not informed the council that she wished to bear a child—in any case, at her age such a request would never have been granted.Keeney’s daughter, Adela, was unmarried.The council had not been informed that any of the family were ill.The only possibility was that there had been an accident to one of them, or, unworthy thought, that Adela had defied the law again and committed the act which had nearly had such serious consequences for her before.I naturally pushed this thought from me.I reflected at that moment that the oddity which had struck me as I stood pushing the unyielding door was that the curtains in the upper rooms were drawn.But not in the lower—I had seen perfectly well into the living room as I squelched my way up to the house.As I stood on that step with the rain teeming down into Keeney’s chaotic garden, I lost my temper and decided that, unannounced Arrival or Departure or not, I would gain entry.I first found the bell and rang it, and failing to get any result, began to knock and pound on the door.After I had been knocking for some time, I heard the bolts being drawn back.* * * *clear out the bones I say to my wife and light a light.I can see nothing.She lies in a corner, not answering, so I beat her with my stick.She still says nothing.I beat her till the blood runs.She just groans and rolls over to face the wall.Of course, the child is weeping.I give him a kick, that’ll teach him sobbing, not that he needs teaching, and walk off.I find Hodge, who smashed his wife’s head.We go hunting.Hey, ho, crashing through bush and tree until toe run it to earth near the mere and bash it to death.Carry it back and they all come out and sing.All but my wife still skulking in the home with the women.Feasting tonight, all thanks to yours truly.Hurroo.* * * *.and Mrs.Keeney put her head out, looking worried.Naturally it would be out of order to discuss a fellow citizen, but I must say her pie and cake baking have fallen off significantly and there is talk of giving her a lighter job.She looks thinner too.Funnily enough, as Keeney increases in bulk, his wife seems to diminish.I stepped inside the house, although it seemed to me that Mrs.Keeney was a second or two late in opening the door, so that I almost felt I was elbowing my way in.“I trust I have not come at any inconvenient moment,” I said, really expecting her to tell me that I had.Her depressed air and the locked door all added up to an Arrival or a Departure taking place.But she said no, I had not come at such a moment.I walked into the living room and asked if Keeney was at home.I observed that he had moved all the furniture since I was last there, somehow crowding it all over to one side of the room, which was large, so that there was a huge space of blank floor (for he had also rolled up the carpet) from the middle of the room to the window, which looked out over the muddy garden.Once again there was the same air of desolation, of changes about to be made, which I had sensed when outside the house.Mrs.Keeney told me her husband was out, with such a weary air that I was surprised she offered me some refreshment.I accepted her offer, and before she left the room, asked what her husband had in mind for the house and garden.She shrugged, said she did not know, was not certain, and left the room.As I sat in that disordered room looking out at the rain over the garden, feeling profoundly uncomfortable and wishing I had never come, I heard an appalling sound—an eerie howling, followed by a heavy scratching and scrabbling at the door! I leaped to my feet and was retreating to the window, for I immediately recognized the sound for what it was, when, to my horror, the door opened.Mrs.Keeney entered with a tray, followed by—the beast!“Come on,” I called, raising the window.“Let’s go out this way
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