Until that was over, I knew that Uncle Loveday would not attack the mystery.

He was sitting outside in the front garden smoking solemnly, and the wreaths of his pipe, curling in through the open door, filled the house with fragrance.
I crept upstairs to my mother's door, and reverently entered the dim-lit room.

They had laid the two dead lovers side by side upon the bed.

Very peacefully they slept the sleep that was their meeting--peacefully as though no wickedness had marred their lives or wrought their death.

I could look upon them calmly now.