Then, nothing, for at least two months. Silence. No doors opening, no mail outgoing. No more clip-clopping.
I mentioned the mystery to my landlord. She is still paying rent, and as far as he knows, she still lives there.
But I don't think that's true. For the past week, I have heard the familiar shlomp of male footsteps upstairs, and tonight's constant smoke alarm bleep and burly group of male cheering leads me to believe that Clip-Cloppy has found a subletter.