I laid my hand on the knob of the door, and looked back at Thorndyke. He
was coming slowly up the stairs, closely scrutinizing floor, walls, and
handrail as he came. When he reached the landing, I turned the handle,
and we entered the room together, closing the door after us. The blind
was still down, and in the dim, uncertain light nothing out of the
common was, at first, to be seen. The shabby little room looked trim and
orderly enough, save for a heap of cast-off feminine clothing piled upon
a chair. The bed appeared undisturbed except by the half-seen shape of
its occupant, and the quiet face, dimly visible in its shadowy corner,
might have been that of a sleeper but for its utter stillness and for a
dark stain on the pillow by its side.
Dr. Hart stole on tiptoe to the bedside, while Thorndyke drew up the
blind; and as the garish daylight poured into the room, the young
surgeon fell back with a gasp of horror.
"Good God!" he exclaimed; "poor creature! But this is a frightful thing,
sir!"
The light streamed down upon the white face of a handsome girl of
twenty-five, a face peaceful, placid, and beautiful with the austere and
almost unearthly beauty of the youthful dead.
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