“I’ll tell her,—but I’d like you to stand by.”
So, taking Minna’s breakfast tray, quite as usual, the nurse went back to her patient.
“You needn’t tell me,” was the greeting she received. “I overheard enough to know what has happened. It’s awful,—but I suppose it’s only the beginning of a further string of tragedies.”
The utter hopelessness of the white face alarmed Granniss more than a hysterical outburst would have done.
“Now, Mrs Varian,” he said, consolingly, “it is an awful occurrence, but in comparison with your nearer sorrows, it means little to you. Try not to think about it; leave it to us and trust me to do all that is necessary or possible.”
Potter arrived then, and Granniss went down to receive him.
“Another!” the sheriff exclaimed. “What devil’s work is going on here, any way?”
He went to the kitchen and knelt beside the dead girl.
“Strangled,” he said, briefly, after an examination. “Choked to death by a strong pair of man’s hands. Mr Granniss, I accuse you of the murder of this girl!”