As the trembling servants appeared in the doorway he laid the body gently back upon the rug and, rising, dashed his hand across his eyes. He remembered that gesture; he had often seen a favorite tragedian use it upon the stage.
“She is dead!” Horror, grief unutterable rang in his tones, and the maids began to sob hysterically.
Without seeming to note their presence Storm staggered past them to the telephone in the library.
“Greenlea 42 . . . . Dr. Carr, please . . . . Doctor, this is Storm, Norman Storm. For God’s sake get over here as quickly as you can! . . . . No, I can’t go into details, but it’s a matter of life and death! . . . . All right, hurry, man!”
For a moment he sat there hunched over the silent instrument while the sweat poured in rivulets down his face. So far, so good. His shaking nerves were aiding him in the rôle he was playing, but he must not let them get the upper hand.
The early morning sun streamed in at the long French windows which opened on the veranda, and the twitter and chirp of birds came to him from the lawn outside, mingling with the muffled wail from the rear. He must go back. God! If only it were all over!
Agnes had collapsed again in a little heap in the den doorway, but Ellen, the cook, knelt by the body, crooning pitifully over it as Storm reentered. She made a grotesque figure clad only in the blanket which she had thrown over her voluminous nightgown, her iron-gray hair screwed back in a tight knob and tears streaming down her round, honest face.
“Oh, sir!” She looked up, her eyes tragic with horror. “Who in the world did it, sir?”
Storm started. A suspicion of murder already, and from the source which he had least anticipated! If stupid, unimaginative Ellen had leaped to such a conclusion could he hope after all that the truth would not reveal itself to Dr. Carr and the authorities? He moistened his lips with his tongue and stammered:
“She—she must have fallen—one of those fainting spells. It looks as though she had struck her head on the fender, there.” He added quickly, “When I came home late I supposed Mrs. Storm was asleep in her room and did not disturb her. How did she come to be here?”