o aid my memory by a look at my sister's face.

"Suddenly I did look up, but it did not aid my memory; and, realising
that I could never think with that lifeless figure before me, I lifted a
pillow from the window-seat near by and covered her face. I must have
done more; I must have covered the whole lounge with pillows and
cushions; for, presently my mind cleared again, and I recollected that
it was something about the poison. I was to put the phial in her
hand--or was I to throw it from the window? Something was to be thrown
from the window--it must be the phial. But I couldn't lift the window,
so having found the phial standing on the table beside the little flask,
I carried it into the closet where there was a window opening inward,
and I dropped it out of that, and thought I had done all. But when I
came back and saw Adelaide's coat lying in a heap where she had thrown
it, I recalled that she had said something about this but what, I didn't
know. So I lifted it and put it in the closet--why, I cannot say. Then I
set my mind on going home.

"But there was something to do first--something not in that room. It was
a long time before it came to me; then the sight of the empty hall
recalled it. The door by which Adelaide had come in had never been
closed, and as I went towards it I remembered the telephone, and that I
was to call up the police. Lifting the candle, I went creeping towards
the front hall. Adelaide had commanded me, or I could never have
accomplished this task. I had to open a door; and when it swung to behind
me and latched, I turned around and looked at it, as if I never expected
it to open again. I almost think I fainted, if one can faint standing,
for when I knew anything, after the appalling latching of that door, I
was in quite another part of the room and the candle which I still held,
looked to my dazed eyes shorter than when I started with it from the
place where my sister lay.

"I was wasting time. The thought drove me to the table. I caught up the
receiver and when central answered, I said something about The Whispering
Pines and wanting help. This is all I remember about that.

"Some time afterward--I don't know when--I was stumbling down the stairs
on my way out. I had gone to--to the room again for my little bag; for
the keys were in it, and I dared not leave them. But I didn't stay a
minute, and I cast but one glance at the lounge. What happened afterward
is like a dream to me. I found th