horror rose from her darkened mind. There was a
long, long period she could not account for--not yet; perhaps it would
come back, as these other terrible memories had returned to assail her.
She rolled over, hiding her face in the pillow, and groaned. The
twilight deepened; the shadows thickened in the room.

Suddenly she rose and began dressing in frenzied haste, overcoming her
bodily weakness with set purpose. Habit came to her rescue, for she was
hardly conscious of her movements. Her toilet completed, she began
hastily packing her traveling case, the impulse of flight urging her to
trembling speed. But when she lifted the bag its weight discouraged her.
Setting it down again upon the dressing table, she lowered her veil and
staggered into the dark hallway. Economy dictated delayed illumination
in the Mellen household. All was quiet. Somewhat reassured, she
descended the stairs, leaning heavily on the rail. The fever which had
relaxed for a brief interval renewed its grip, and filled with vague,
indescribable fears, she fled blindly. Something in her subconscious
brain suggested Victor Mahr, and it was toward Washington Square that
she bent her hurried steps.

She entered the park, forcing her failing strength to one supreme
effort, and sank, gasping, upon a bench. It faced toward the darkened
residence of the murdered man. A few stragglers stood grouped on the
pavement before the house, of asked questions of the policeman stationed
near by. The electric lights threw lace patterns that wavered over the
unfrequented paths. She leaned back, staring at the dark bulk of the
mansion with the darker streak at the doorway, which one divined to be
the sinister mark of death. Suddenly she sat erect, her aching weariness
forgotten. She knew, past peradventure, that _she had sat there upon
that very seat the night before_. The memory was but a flash. Already
delirium was returning. She was powerless to move. Hours passed, and
still she sat staring, unseeing, straight before her. Once a policeman
passed and turned to look at her, but her evident refinement quieted his
suspicions, and he moved on.

She was roused at last by a movement of the bench as someone took a
place beside her. She looked up and vaguely realized that it was a
woman, darkly dressed and heavily veiled like herself. She, too, leaned
back and seemed lost in contemplation of the house opposite. Presently
she raised the veil, as if it obstructed her vision too g