lle will accept my brougham?"

A tall dark man had come forward. He was the Escamillo. She thanked
him with a look. Some woman threw a cloak over Rosa's shoulders, and,
the baritone on one side of her and myself on the other, we left the
theatre. It seemed scarcely a moment since she had entered it
confident and proud.

During the drive back to her flat I did not speak, but I examined her
narrowly. Her skin was dry and burning, and on her forehead there was
a slight rash. Her lips were dry, and she continually made the motion
of swallowing. Her eyes sparkled, and they seemed to stand out from
her head. Also she still bitterly complained of thirst. She wanted,
indeed, to stop the carriage and have something to drink at the Cafe
de l'Univers, but I absolutely declined to permit such a proceeding,
and in a few minutes we were at her flat. The attack was passing away.
She mounted the stairs without much difficulty.

"You must go to bed," I said. We were in the salon. "In a few hours
you will be better."

"I will ring for Yvette."

"No," I said, "you will not ring for Yvette. I want Yvette myself.
Have you no other servant who can assist you?"

"Yes. But why not Yvette?"

"You can question me to-morrow. Please obey me now. I am your doctor.
I will ring the bell. Yvette will come, and you will at once go out of
the room, find another servant, and retire to bed. You can do that?
You are not faint?"

"No, I can do it; but it is very queer."

I rang the bell.

"You have said that before, and I say, 'It is queer; queerer than you
imagine.' One thing I must ask you before you go. When you had the
attack in the theatre did you see things double?"

"Yes," she answered. "But how did you know? I felt as though I was
intoxicated; but I had taken nothing whatever."

"Excuse me, you had taken egg-and-milk. Here is the glass out of which
you drank it." I picked up the glass, which had been left on the
table, and which still contained about a spoonful of egg-and-milk.

Yvette entered in response to my summons.

"Mademoiselle has returned soon," the girl began lightly.

"Yes."

The two women looked at each other. I hastened to the door, and held
it open for Rosa to pass out. She did so. I closed the door, and put
my back against it. The glass I still held in my hand.

"Now, Yvette, I want to ask you a few questions."

She stood before me, pretty even in her plain black frock and black
apron, and folded her hands. Her