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"
"
"
Do you know what I think?"
What?"
Listen!" I looked round, the others were out of earshot. I lowered my voice
to a whisper. "I believe she has been poisoned! I'm certain Dr. Bauerstein
suspects it."
"What?" She shrank against the wall, the pupils of her eyes dilating wildly.
Then, with a sudden cry that startled me, she cried out: "No, no--not that--
not that!" And breaking from me, fled up the stairs. I followed her, afraid
that she was going to faint. I found her leaning against the bannisters,
deadly pale. She waved me away impatiently.
"No, no--leave me. I'd rather be alone. Let me just be quiet for a minute or
two. Go down to the others."
I obeyed her reluctantly. John and Lawrence were in the dining-room. I
joined them. We were all silent, but I suppose I voiced the thoughts of us all
when I at last broke it by saying:
"
Where is Mr. Inglethorp?"
John shook his head.
He's not in the house."
"
Our eyes met. Where was Alfred Inglethorp? His absence was strange and
inexplicable. I remembered Mrs. Inglethorp's dying words. What lay beneath
them? What more could she have told us, if she had had time?
At last we heard the doctors descending the stairs. Dr. Wilkins was looking
important and excited, and trying to conceal an inward exultation under a
manner of decorous calm. Dr. Bauerstein remained in the background, his
grave bearded face unchanged. Dr. Wilkins was the spokesman for the two.
He addressed himself to John:
"Mr. Cavendish, I should like your consent to a postmortem."
"Is that necessary?" asked John gravely. A spasm of pain crossed his face.
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