Janet suddenly sat up, opened her eyes to a horrible width, and stared at her.
"I have burnt them all, Fred," she said, looking full at Anne. "Everything. There is nothing left. I promised I would, and I have. But oh! Fred, how could you do it? How could you, could you, do it?" And she burst into a low cry of anguish.
Anne took her by the arm.
"You are dreaming, Janet," she said. "Wake up. Look! You are here with me, Anne—your friend."
Janet winced, and her eyelids quivered. Then she looked round her bewildered, and said in a more natural voice: "I don't know where I am. I thought I was at home with Fred."
"I have sent for your brother, and he will come and take you home to-morrow."
"Something dreadful has happened," said Janet. "It is like a stone on my head. It crushes me, but I don't know what it is."
Anne looked gravely at Janet, and half unconsciously unclasped the thin chain, with its heavy diamond pendant, from her neck. Her hand trembled as she did it. She was not thinking of Janet at that moment. "I shall not see him to-night," she was saying to herself. And the delicate colour faded, the hidden tumult died down. She was calm and practical once more. She wrote a note, sent it down to the waiting carriage to deliver, got quickly out of the flowing white gown into a dressing-gown, and returned to Janet.