"This singular occurrence was interpreted by Q, no doubt correctly,
to indicate his own approaching death. I did what I could to
remove this feeling, but it was impossible to do so, and he
presently wrung my hand and left me, firmly convinced that he would
not live till morning."

"Good heavens!" I exclaimed, "and he died that night?"

"No, he did not," said Annerly quietly, "that is the inexplicable
part of it."

"Tell me about it," I said.

"He rose that morning as usual, dressed himself with his customary
care, omitting none of his clothes, and walked down to his office
at the usual hour. He told me afterwards that he remembered the
circumstances so clearly from the fact that he had gone to the
office by the usual route instead of taking any other direction."

"Stop a moment," I said. "Did anything unusual happen to mark
that particular day?"

"I anticipated that you would ask that question," said Annerly,
"but as far as I can gather, absolutely nothing happened. Q
returned from his work, and ate his dinner apparently much as
usual, and presently went to bed complaining of a slight feeling
of drowsiness, but nothing more. His stepmother, with whom he
lived, said afterwards that she could hear the sound of his
breathing quite distinctly during the night."