Wait! she may still be alive.

She may have a word to speak." She was bending to listen.

It was hardly a favorable moment for further questioning, but the Curator in his anxiety could not refrain from saying: "Who is she?
What is her name and what is yours ?" "Her name ?" repeated the woman, rising to face him again.

"How should I know?
I was passing through this gallery and had just stopped to take a look into the court when this young girl bounded by me from behind and flinging up her arms, fell with a deep sigh to the floor.

I saw an arrow in her breast, and----" Emotion choked her, and when some one asked if the girl was a stranger to her, she simply bowed her head; then, letting her gaze pass from face to face till it had completed the circle of those about her, she said in her former mechanical way: "My name is Ermentrude Taylor.