the Morgue or otherwise disturbed, please hasten to Pier 48 E. R.
GRAHAM.

"Come," said I, "let's go and see for ourselves. If it should be the
one--"

"The dinner party proposed by Mr. Blake for to-night, may have its
interruptions," he remarked.

I do not wish to make my story any longer than is necessary, but I
must say that when in an hour or so later, I stood with Mr. Gryce
before the unconscious form of that poor drowned girl I felt an
unusual degree of awe stealing over me: there was so much mystery
connected with this affair, and the parties implicated were of such
standing and repute.

I almost dreaded to see the covering removed from her face lest I
should behold, what? I could not have told if I had tried.

"A trim made body enough," cried the official in charge as Mr. Gryce
lifted an end of the cloth that enveloped her and threw it back.
"Pity the features are not better preserved."

"No need for us to see the features," exclaimed I, pointing to the
locks of golden red hair that hung in tangled masses about her. "The
hair is enough; she is not the one." And I turned aside, asking myself
if it was relief I felt.

To my surprise Mr. Gryce did not follow.