During the drive back to her flat I did not speak, but I examined her

narrowly. Her skin was dry and burning, and on her forehead there was

a slight rash. Her lips were dry, and she continually made the motion

of swallowing. Her eyes sparkled, and they seemed to stand out from

her head. Also she still bitterly complained of thirst. She wanted,

indeed, to stop the carriage and have something to drink at the Café

de l'Univers, but I absolutely declined to permit such a proceeding,

and in a few minutes we were at her flat. The attack was passing away.

She mounted the stairs without much difficulty.

"You must go to bed," I said. We were in the salon. "In a few hours

you will be better."

"I will ring for Yvette."

"No," I said, "you will not ring for Yvette. I want Yvette myself.

Have you no other servant who can assist you?"

"Yes. But why not Yvette?"

"You can question me to-morrow. Please obey me now. I am your doctor.

I will ring the bell. Yvette will come, and you will at once go out of

the room, find another servant, and retire to bed. You can do that?

You are not faint?"

"No, I can do it; but it is very queer."

I rang the bell.

"You have said that before, and I say, 'It is queer; queerer than you

imagine.' One thing I must ask you before you go. When you had the

attack in the theatre did you see things double?"

"Yes," she answered. "But how did you know? I felt as though I was

intoxicated; but I had taken nothing whatever."

"Excuse me, you had taken egg-and-milk. Here is the glass out of which

you drank it." I picked up the glass, which had been left on the

table, and which still contained about a spoonful of egg-and-milk.

Yvette entered in response to my summons.

"Mademoiselle has returned soon," the girl began lightly.

"Yes."

The two women looked at each other. I hastened to the door, and held

it open for Rosa to pass out. She did so. I closed the door, and put

my back against it. The glass I still held in my hand.

"Now, Yvette, I want to ask you a few questions."

She stood before me, pretty even in her plain black frock and black

apron, and folded her hands. Her face showed no emotion whatever.

"Yes, monsieur, but mademoiselle will need me."

"Mademoiselle will not need you. She will never need you again."

"Monsieur says?"

"You see this glass. What did you put in it?"

"The cook put egg-and-milk into it."

"I ask what you put in it?"




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