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I went to my room, meaning to go back to her in an hour, but once on my bed I slept without waking. It was dark when I heard Henshawe knocking on my door and calling to me. As I opened it, he said in a despairing tone: “She’s gone, Nellie, she’s gone!”
I thought he meant she had died. I hurried after him down the corridor and into her room. It was empty. He pointed to her empty bed. “Don’t you see? She has gone, God knows where!”
“But how could she? A woman so ill? She must be somewhere in the building.”
“I’ve been all over the house. You don’t know her, Nellie. She can do anything she wills. Look at this.”
On the desk lay a sheet of note paper scribbled in lead pencil: Dear Oswald: My hour has come. Don’t follow me. I wish to be alone. Nellie knows where there is money for masses.” That was all. There was no signature.
We hurried to the police station. The chief
