“Wait!” cried Mr. Gryce, and beckoning me into a corner, he whispered, “Now comes in that experience of Q’s. While you are gone from the house, and before Mrs. Belden sees Hannah again, he has a glimpse of the girl bending over something in the corner of her room which may very fairly be the wash-bowl we found there. After which, he sees her swallow, in the most lively way, a dose of something from a bit of paper. Was there anything more?”
“No,” said I.
“Very well, then,” he cried, going back to Mrs. Belden. “But——”
“But when I went up-stairs to bed, I thought of the girl, and going to her door opened it. The light was extinguished, and she seemed asleep, so I closed it again and came out.”
“Without speaking?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you notice how she was lying?”
“Not particularly. I think on her back.”
“In something of the same position in which she was found this morning?”
“Yes, sir.”