The leading lady
And she waved an arm toward the channel.

“There—from the Point. She’s gone—she’s dead! She went over into the water. On the top of the cliff. She’s murdered—dead—murdered!”

As if she were dead, too, and of no more consequence, they fled past her—a line of people streaming out into the serene evening that held a hideous catastrophe. Only Anne stayed, her face as if overlaid by a coating of white paint. She went to Flora and seized her by the arm.

“Who was it?” she whispered. “Who did it?”

The woman looked at her at first as if not knowing who she was. Then jerking her arm free, clasped her hands against the sides of her head and went across the room staring upward and crying out:

“I don’t know. I didn’t see—— It’s God’s truth, I don’t know.”

Anne ran out after the others.

[Pg 103]

[Pg 103]

VII

The moon had risen and hung on the edge of the sky like a great disk of white paper. Anne saw the others running this way and that along the edge of the Point. A boat was pushing out from the dock, Stokes in it, and, caught by the current, it shot down the gleaming surface of the channel. There were cries in men’s voices and Stokes’ answer, bell-clear from the water. Then Shine ran by her, back to the house, grim-visaged with staring eyes. The scene had the fantastic quality of a nightmare, the solemn splendors of the setting and the gesticulating, shouting figures darting about like grotesque silhouettes.

The

She ran on through the pine wood up the path beyond. Mrs. Cornell met her, tried to speak with chattering teeth, but ended in a scream and fell upon her shoulder. Over her head Anne saw Bassett[Pg 104] flying down the slope to the wharf. Then presently boats moving out from Hayworth. They came with incredible speed, sliding forward in a group that spread and broke into units scattering across the channel. Here they sped back and forth, up and down, swift black shapes that seemed to be executing some complicated maneuvers along the glittering track of moonlight. She was aware of Bassett’s figure leaving the wharf and racing to the house, of 
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