apparently lying awake in bed, but she was not awake. She slept
the sleep of death. Her eyes were open, but glazed, and she was
already cold. Mannering declared that she had been dead for a good
many hours. Yet, save for a slight but hardly unnatural pallor,
not a trace of death marked the poor little creature. An expression
of wonder seemed to sit on her features, but otherwise she was
looking much as I had last seen her, when she said 'Good-night.'
Everything appeared to be orderly in the room. It was now flooded
with the first light of a sunny morning, for she had drawn her
blind up and thrown her window wide open. The poor lady passed out
of life without a sound or signal to indicate trouble, for in the
silence of night Jane Bond must have heard any alarm had she raised
one. To me it seemed impossible to believe that we gazed upon a
corpse. But so it was, though, as a matter of form, the doctor
took certain measures to restore her. But animation was not
suspended; it had passed beyond recall.

"There was held a post-mortem examination, and an inquest, of
course; and Mannering, who felt deep professional interest, asked
a friend from Plymouth to conduct the examination. Their report
astounded all concerned and crowned the mystery, for not a trace
of any physical trouble could be discovered to explain Nurse
Forrester's death. She was thin, but organically sound in every
particular, nor could the slightest trace of poison be reported.
Life had simply left her without any physical reason. Search
proved that she had brought no drugs or any sort of physic with her,
and no information to cast the least light came from the institution
for which she worked. She was a favorite there, and the news of
her sudden death brought sorrow to her many personal friends.