til the supreme, the enduring silence had clutched about her throat! The sullen and sepulchral air of the room seemed to vibrate with the wraiths of those efforts.
Was the door open to the next room where she had struggled and died?
Garth stirred uneasily.
Nora spoke.
"How long?"
"Not long," Garth whispered, "or I'll turn the lights on. I'll look."
His thoughts swung back to the next room and the despair it had harbored. Could such passionate resistance to circumstance perish utterly? Could the violent will behind it accept silence and pass with the body into nothingness?
What had she wanted to say?
A movement, scarcely audible, reached him from the next room.
Nora's hand touched his arm. He was aware of the trembling of her fingers. He leant forward, listening. He scarcely caught Nora's voice.
"You heard—that?"
The movement was repeated—somebody—something stirred in the dark room where the woman had died.
Nora swayed against him. Her other hand touched his shoulder. His heart leapt, but he realized that this contact was only an impersonal appeal for protection. So he drew his arms back, but his brain was clearer. He no longer answered
