answered him. She did not know why she called out.
Surely it was no misfortune of hers--this accident. She only knew that
her child was out, and should have returned long ago.

Paula rushed to the top of the landing and looked down. Below, she saw a
procession of people slowly ascending the stairs. First came the
stalwart policeman bearing something white in his arms, then came the
tall, thin man in the linen duster, followed by a number of women
weeping and wailing. Paula felt herself grow pale. A vague intuition
told her that a terrible tragedy had occurred. Her heart seemed to stop
beating. Up and up, closer and closer, came the policeman with his
burden.

"What is it?" cried Paula, scarcely able to control herself.

"A child run over, m'm," answered the officer stolidly. Tears were in
his eyes as he added: "It's little Annie Hughes. I'm afraid it's all
over."

The child's form was limp, the eyes were closed, her little dress was
saturated with blood.

"Oh, God!"

With an involuntary shriek of horror, Paula staggered back into the
attic. Her first thought was of the poor mother, to save her the shock
of seeing the body of her mangled child, but as she crossed the
threshold, she suddenly felt sick and dizzy. The room seemed to swim
round. She called loudly:

"Mr. Chase! Come quick!"

Then she fainted, just as Tod reached her.

[Illustration: THE AGONIZED SCREAM OF A MOTHER ROBBED OF HER YOUNG.]

But poor Mrs. Hughes had heard the shriek and she answered it with one
even more terrible--the agonized scream of a mother robbed of her young.
Suddenly possessed of almost superhuman strength, she left the bed and
staggered to the door while Tod, panicstricken, was dashing cold water
into Paula's face, trying to revive her.

The policeman entered with his pathetic burden and laid the child gently
on the bed.

"We've rung for an ambulance," he explained, "but----"

A fierce, hysterical outburst interrupted him. The wretched mother
snatched her child from his grasp and, fondling it to her almost naked
breast, tried with wild, staring eyes and trembling hands to find its
injuries. Not understanding, unable to help, crushed under the awful
weight of this supreme blow which had stricken her, she frantically
kissed the child's white face and called upon her by name.

The tall, thin man in the linen duster advanced, felt the child's pulse,
and then tried to lead the mother away.

"Madam," he said, "I'm a doctor.