There was hope for me then. “You met no one upon the stairs, or saw no one leave the flats?” “No one,” Anna answered firmly. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. ’ Was there a careful note in her voice? Gerald gave no sign, keeping his own tone light. His name is carved upon a beam up stairs. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. The panel in the bookcase.
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