THE VISION It was growing dusk when Anne at length came to the Manor.

She was utterly weary and faint from lack of food.

The servant who admitted her looked at her strangely, as if half afraid.
"Please have tea taken to my sitting-room," she said quietly, as she passed him.
And with that she went straight to her room.

Standing before a mirror to remove her hat, she caught sight of something that seemed to stab her heart.

The cream cloth coat she wore was all spattered with blood.
She stood rigid, not breathing, staring into the white face above it--the white face of a woman she hardly knew, with compressed lips and wild, tragic eyes.