Kennedy,' said Mr Openshaw.

'Oh, sir,' said Norah, 'I did not touch the brooch; indeed I did not.
Oh, sir, I cannot live to be thought so badly of'; and very sick
and faint, she suddenly sank down on the ground. To her surprise, Mr
Openshaw raised her up very tenderly. Even the policeman helped to lay
her on the sofa; and, at Mr Openshaw's desire, he went for some wine
and sandwiches; for the poor gaunt woman lay there almost as if dead
with weariness and exhaustion.

'Norah,' said Mr Openshaw, in his kindest voice, 'the brooch is found.
It was hanging to Mrs Chadwick's gown. I beg your pardon. Most truly
I beg your pardon, for having troubled you about it. My wife is almost
broken-hearted. Eat, Norah--or, stay, first drink this glass of wine,'
said he, lifting her head, and pouring a little down her throat.

As she drank, she remembered where she was, and who she was waiting
for. She suddenly pushed Mr Openshaw away, saying, 'Oh, sir, you must
go. You must not stop a minute. If he comes back, he will kill you.'

'Alas, Norah! I do not know who "he" is. But someone is gone away who
will never come back: someone who knew you, and whom I am afraid you
cared for.'

'I don't understand you, sir,' said Norah, her master's kind and
sorrowful manner bewildering her yet more than his words. The
policeman had left the room at Mr Openshaw's desire, and they two were
alone.

'You know what I mean, when I say someone is gone who will never come
back. I mean that he is dead!'

'Who?' said Norah, trembling all over.

'A poor man has been found in the Thames this morning--drowned.'

'Did he drown himself?' asked Norah, solemnly.

'God only knows,' replied Mr Openshaw, in the same tone. 'Your name
and address at our house were found in his pocket; that, and his
purse, were the only things that were found upon him. I am sorry to
say it, my poor Norah; but you are required to go and identify him.'

'To what?' asked Norah.

'To say who it is. It is always done, in order that some reason may be
discovered for the suicide--if suicide it was. I make no doubt, he was
the man who came to see you at our house last night. It is very sad, I
know.' He made pauses between each little clause, in order to try and
bring back her senses, which he feared were wandering--so wild and sad
was her look.

'Master Openshaw,' said she, at last, 'I've a dreadful secret to tell
you--only you must never breathe it to anyone, and you and I must hi