"Yes; the calls were for your father. When he was summoned to the wire
he immediately had the connection given to him on his private line,
here in the library. After he returned to the dining-room he did seem
slightly absent-minded, now that I think of it; but it did not occur
to me that there could have been any serious trouble. You know,
dearest, ever since the evening when he promised to give you to me, he
has consulted me, also, to a great extent about his financial
interests, and I think if any difficulty had arisen he would have
mentioned it."

"Still, I am convinced that something was on his mind. I tried to
approach him concerning it, but he was evasive, and put me off,
laughingly. You know that father was not the sort of man whose
confidence could be forced even by those dearest to him. I had been so
worried about him, though, that I had a nervous headache, and after
you left, Ramon, I retired at once. An hour or two later, father had a
visitor--that fact as you know, the coroner elicited from the
servants, but it had, of course, no bearing on his death, since the
caller was Mr. Rockamore. I heard his voice when I opened the door of
my room, after ringing for my maid to get some lavender salts. I could
not sleep, my headache grew worse; and while I was struggling against
it, I heard Mr. Rockamore depart, and my father's voice in the hall,
after the slamming of the front door, telling Wilkes to retire, that
he would need him no more that night. I heard the butler's footsteps
pass down the hall, and then I rose and opened my door again. I don't
know why, but I felt that I wanted to speak to father when he came up
on his way to bed."

Anita paused, and Ramon, in spite of himself, felt a thrill of puzzled
wonder at her expression, upon which a dawning look, almost of horror,
spread and grew.

"But he did not come, and after a while I stole to the head of the
stairs and looked down. There was a low light in the hall and a
brighter one from the library, the door of which was ajar. I supposed
that father was working late over some papers, and I knew that I must
not disturb him. I crept back to bed at last, with a sigh, but left my
own door slightly open, so that if I should happen to be awake when he
passed, I might call to him.

"Presently, however, I dozed off. I don't know how long I slept, but I
awakened to hear voices--angry voices, my father's and another, which
I did not recognize. I got up and by the