�For either of us? There will be the reading of her letter for me.�

She shook her head with a slight laugh. �There will be no letter.�

Thursdale faced about from the threshold with fresh life in his look. �No letter? You don�t mean—�

�I mean that she�s been with you since I saw her—she�s seen you and heard your voice. If there is a letter, she has recalled it—from the first station, by telegraph.�

He turned back to the door, forcing an answer to her smile. �But in the mean while I shall have read it,� he said.

The door closed on him, and she hid her eyes from the dreadful emptiness of the room.

The End

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THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD HAND

As first published in Atlantic Monthly, August 1904