CHAPTER XIVIt was Hilary’s custom to go downstairs at about half-past eight o’clock in the morning; usually she was alone at breakfast, and enjoyed it in the bright little breakfast room beyond the big dining room. Sometimes Craig joined her, but he was not very regular, and she never waited for him.
On the morning after her white night, feeling tired and still fearful, even after her hot bath and leisurely toilet, Hilary was going quietly through the upper hall on her way downstairs when Dora’s bedroom door suddenly opened, and Dora, the picture of utter desolation, appeared in the doorway, and said her name.
“Come in here!” said Dora. Hilary with all her half-formed apprehensions returning in definite shape, and with redoubled force, went to the door and looked in.
Dora’s bed was tumb
