Final Papers

and the Whistler, and I know many things, for I walk by night. I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women, who have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak.

And all for the Whistler's strange story, final papers. On a clear morning you could see Catalina Island from the Craig's hilltop home. But Anna Craig was not interested in the view. No.

As she paced up and down the terrace, her eye was on the long, winding road leading to the house. She was waiting for the mailman. Waiting. That's all you've been doing lately, isn't it, Anna?

But you're certain that it can't be much longer. Then you see Mrs. Owens, your housekeeper, coming towards you and smiling. Mrs. Craig, here's a letter for you. I think perhaps it's the one you've been waiting for.

Oh Mrs. Owens. Is it? Yes. My note is to come to the Hall of Justice in two weeks. I have to be sworn in as an American citizen. Oh, your final paper. Oh my. It seems like yesterday that Mr. Craig came back from his business trip to Europe and brought you with him.

It's been three years, Mrs. Owens, three long years. Oh, Mr. Craig, I'll be excited. Are you going to phone him and tell him? No, it's Wednesday. I always go down to the office on Wednesday to have lunch with him. I tell him then.

You be careful in the traffic. So excited, I mean. And going down the mountain to the highway, it's dangerous, oh, Mrs. Owen, it's just so sweet. But don't worry about me. I've learned to handle a car very well now.