She held up the lamp. He reached out a hand gropingly, sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay very still. Too many. She sank upon her knees and unbuttoned his coat. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. “My friend,” she said, “I have been your pupil for two years.
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