CHAPTER IV
Death speaks with the tongue of Memory, and his ashen hand reaches
out of the great unknown to seize and hold fast our plighted souls.
What Maitland’s reason was for spending the night with the dead body of Darrow, or how he busied himself until morning, I do not know. Perhaps he desired to make sure that everything remained untouched, or, it may be, that he chose this method of preventing Gwen from performing a vigil by the body. I thought this latter view very probable at the time, as I had been singularly impressed with the remarkable foresight my friend had displayed in so quickly and adroitly getting Gwen away from everything connected with her father’s sad and mysterious death.
Arriving at my house my sister took an early opportunity to urge upon Gwen a glass of wi
