She had gone from her home, driven by God knows what impulse, to walk in the starlight--there was no moon--along the banks of the canal.

In the darkness, had she missed her footing and stepped into nothingness and the black water?
The Coroner's Jury decided the question in the affirmative.

They brought in a verdict of death by misadventure.

And up to the date on which I begin this little Chronicle of Wellingsford, namely that of the summons to Wellings Park, when I heard of the death of young Oswald Fenimore, that is all I knew of the matter.
Throughout July my friends were like dead people.

There was nothing that could be said to them by way of consolation.