Vera means truthful. It’s ironic that Vera’s name means truthful, but she lies to Framton Nuttel about
her Uncle’s death. The last sentence in the story is ironic because Vera didn’t say a single romantic word. It’s
ironic how Nuttel is supposed to be going through a nerve illness cure at this place he was sent to, and instead they freak
him out. “One would think
he had seen a ghost." To him, it was a ghost.
Exposition- Framton Nuttel endeavored
to say the correct something which should duly Hatter the niece of the moment without unduly discounting the aunt that was
to come. Privately he doubted more than ever whether these formal visits on a succession of total strangers would do much
towards helping the nerve cure which he was supposed to be undergoing.
"I know how it will be," his sister had said when
he was preparing to migrate to this rural retreat; "you will bury yourself down there and not speak to a living soul, and
your nerves will be worse than ever from moping. I shall just give you letters of introduction to all the people I know there.
Some of them, as far as I can remember, were quite nice."
"Her great tragedy happened just three years ago," said the child; "that would be since your sister's time."
Rising Action- "I
hope you don't mind the open window," said Mrs. Sappleton briskly; "my husband and brothers will be home directly from shooting,
and they always come in this way. They've been out for snipe in the marshes today, so they'll make a fine mess over my poor
carpets. So like you menfolk, isn't it?"
She rattled on cheerfully about the shooting and
the scarcity of birds, and the prospects or duck in the winter. To Framton it was all purely horrible. He made a desperate
but only partially successful effort to turn the talk on to a less ghastly topic, he was conscious that his hostess was giving
him only a fragment of her attention, and her eyes were constantly straying past him to the open window and the lawn beyond.
It was certainly an unfortunate coincidence that he should have paid his visit on this tragic anniversary.
"The doctors agree in ordering me complete rest,
an absence of mental excitement, and avoidance of anything in the nature of violent physical exercise," announced Framton,
who labored under the tolerably widespread delusion that total strangers and chance acquaintances are hungry for the least
detail of one's ailments and infirmities, their cause and cure. "On the matter of diet they are not so much in agreement,
Climax- In the deepening
twilight three figures were walking across the lawn towards the window, they all carried guns under their arms, and one of
them was additionally burdened with a white coat hung over his shoulders. A tired brown spaniel kept close at their heels.
Noiselessly they neared the house, and then a hoarse young voice chanted out of the dusk: "I said, Bertie, why do you bound?"
Falling Action- Framton
grabbed wildly at his stick and hat; the hall door, the gravel drive, and the front gate were dimly noted stages in his headlong
retreat. A cyclist coming along the road had to run into the hedge to avoid imminent collision.
"Here we are, my dear," said the bearer of the
white mackintosh, coming in through the window, "fairly muddy, but most of it's dry. Who was that who bolted out as we came
"A most extraordinary man, a Mr. Nuttel," said
Mrs. Sappleton; "could only talk about his illnesses, and dashed off without a word of goodbye or apology when you arrived.
One would think he had seen a ghost."
"I expect it was the spaniel," said the niece
calmly; "he told me he had a horror of dogs. He was once hunted into a cemetery somewhere on the banks of the Ganges
by a pack of pariah dogs, and had to spend the night in a newly dug grave with the creatures snarling and grinning and foaming
just above him. Enough to make anyone lose their nerve."
Romance at short notice was her specialty.