And then I heard the
butler catch his breath, and suddenly her voice trailed off in wonder
and pitiful disappointment.
"It's not Gervase! It's Reg--Mr. Travers. I beg your pardon.
I thought--"
But I passed up the steps and stood before her: and said, as she drew
back--
"There has been an accident. Gervase has shot himself." I turned to
the butler. "You had better run to the police station. Stay: take this
revolver. It won't count anything as evidence: but I ask you to examine
it and make sure all the chambers are loaded."
A thud in the hall interrupted me. I ran in and knelt beside Elaine,
and as I stooped to lift her--as my hand touched her hair--this was the
jealous question on my lips--
"What has _she_ to do with it. It is _I_ who cannot do without him--who
must miss him always!"
A PAIR OF HANDS
AN OLD MAID'S GHOST-STORY
"Yes," said Miss Le Petyt, gazing into the deep fireplace and letting
her hands and her knitting lie for the moment idle in her lap.
"Oh, yes, I have seen a ghost. In fact I have lived in a house with one
for quite a long time."
"How you _could_--" began one of my host's daughters; and "_You_, Aunt
Emily?" cried the other at the same moment.
Miss Le Petyt, gentle soul, withdrew her eyes from the fireplace and
protested with a gay little smile. "Well, my dears, I am not quite the
coward you take me for.
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