e had.... At the same time it might be very embarrassing to....
yes, certainly, the matter must be dropped!

They would, he supposed, find it necessary to elope.... No sense in
looking for trouble! The old gentleman had been odder than ever the
last day or so. He had ceased even to pretend that his guest's presence
was anything but an annoyance. He had refused utterly to enter into any
connected conversation and had been restless and erratic to a degree.
"Too muchy moon-devil," according to Li Ho. That very afternoon he had
met them coming down from their talk upon the rocks and the ironic
courtesy of his greeting had been little less than baleful. At supper
he had remarked sentimentally upon the flight of time, referring to the
nearness of Friday in a way eminently calculated to speed the parting
guest.

Friday, at latest, then? If they were to go they would go on
Friday.--Friday and the full moon.

In the meantime he felt no desire for sleep. The moon, perhaps?
Certainly there is nothing in the mere business-like prospect of
engaging a permanent secretary to cause insomnia. The professor
supposed it was simply his state of health in general. It might be a
good idea to drop a line to his medical man. He had promised to report
symptoms. Besides, it was only fair to prepare John. The candle was
burnt out, but the moon would do--pad on knee, he began to write....

"Beloved Bones--I am writing in the hope that the thought of you may
cause cerebral exhaustion. I find the moon too stimulating. Otherwise I
rejoice to report myself recovered. I can walk. I can climb hills. I
can un-climb hills, which is much worse, and I eat so much that I'm
ashamed to look my board money in the face. You might gently prepare
Aunt Caroline by some mention of an improved appetite.

I had a letter from Aunt Caroline yesterday. That is to say, three
letters. When you included (by request) "positively no letter writing"
in my holiday menu, you did not make it plain who it was that was
positively not to write. So, although she tells me sadly that she
expects no answers, Aunt Caroline positively does. I may say at once
that I know all the news.

On the other hand, there is some news which Aunt Caroline does not
know. Owing to your embargo on letters, I have not been able to inform
my Aunt of the progress of my book, nor of my discovery of the perfect
secretary. I have not, in short, been able to tell her anything.

So you will have to do i