VIIAnd then a dreadful thing happened: really a very dreadful thing. Hannele read of it in the evening newspaper of the town—the Abendblatt. Mitchka came rushing up with the paper at ten o'clock at night, just when Hannele was going to bed.
Mrs Hepburn had fallen out of her bedroom window, from the third floor of the hotel, down on to the pavement below, and was killed. She was dressing for dinner. And apparently she had in the morning washed a certain little camisole, and put it on the window–sill to dry. She must have stood on a chair, reaching for it when she fell out of the window. Her husband, who was in the dressing–room, heard a queer little noise, a sort of choking cry, and came into her room to see what it was. And she wasn't there. The window was open, and the chair by the windo
