" "Ja—ja," returned the Hollander. He was wrapped in a loose dressing-gown of light material, and stood near the corner where the women's dresses had just been thrown down, quite out of sight of all the party, except Mrs. Wood, "it may be poisoned. But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle. It was empty. "Good night, Master. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. ‘Damn you, what’s the matter with you?’ he snapped in frustration.
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