Celia had expected her to break down; but there was something in Miriam's condition which puzzled Celia.

She seemed not only overwhelmed by grief and anxiety, but to be possessed of a nervous terror which expressed itself in an avoidance of her husband.

Lord Heyton had asked after his wife several times that day; but Miriam had refused to see him, and once, when Celia ventured to plead with her, and to try to persuade her to allow Lord Heyton to come into the room, Miriam had sprung at the door and leant with her back against it, panting, with absolute terror, and with a look of horror on her face which at once stopped all Celia's attempts at persuasion.
For a time, Miriam paced up and down the room, like one distraught, continually muttering, "Will he die?
Will it be murder ?" But at last Celia had succeeded in getting the hysterical woman to bed, where she lay, exhausted by her emotions.

Celia was on her way to ask Doctor Scott for a sleeping draught, when she was met by the detective and the Inspector.
"Miss Grant, the librarian," murmured the Inspector; and Mr.Jacobs bowed politely.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Grant," he said.

"Wish it were in happier circumstances.