III

THE EMPTY DRAWER


As they re-entered the larger room, they were astonished to come
upon Miss Page standing in the doorway. She was gazing at the
recumbent figure of the dead woman, and for a moment seemed
unconscious of their presence.

"How did you get in? Which of my men was weak enough to let you
pass, against my express instructions?" asked the constable, who
was of an irritable and suspicious nature.

She let the hood drop from her head, and, turning, surveyed him
with a slow smile. There was witchery in that smile sufficient to
affect a much more cultivated and callous nature than his, and
though he had been proof against it once he could not quite resist
the effect of its repetition.

"I insisted upon entering," said she. "Do not blame the men; they
did not want to use force against a woman." She had not a good
voice and she knew it; but she covered up this defect by a choice
of intonations that carried her lightest speech to the heart.
Hard-visaged Amos Fenton gave a grunt, which was as near an
expression of approval as he ever gave to anyone.