Shakhmaty raised a curious eyebrow. "I certainly hope you're feeling better soon," she told Corbin with genuine sympathy. "I'm no doctor, but perhaps you have a bit of narcolepsy as well? I've heard that some people in Highcliff have been afflicted with that disease, although no one knows why...Maybe it's these damned Maine winters. They can put anyone into a deep sleep."
No one laughed. Her jokes usually didn't fall as flat as this one, but indeed...
Her mouth was dry as the cotton sheets on her bed, with a high thread-count, no doubt. She went into the dining room, depositing her mink on the back of her chair. The dining room had that same style of gaslit chandelier, cobwebby and eerily-lit. However, the china plates and elegant varnished oak table bespoke that Henrietta was not lazy about dusting and polishing everything in the house. Shakhmaty took a seat next to Artemis Black, whose eyes darted rovingly over her bodice. She was sure of it.