"To what should I come back? The light of my life has gone out." EPILOGUE A month later, when Christmas was over, and the people who had done with their guns, and did not mean hunting, were making a little season in London on their way to Egypt or the Riviera, Lady Susan Amphlett as Chorus was in her best form at cosy dinners. "_Now_ will you believe that Claude Rutherford was a devoted husband, and that he broke his heart when his wife died?" she asked triumphantly. "I believe that he was nearly as much of a crank as his pretty wife. She was a disciple of Francis Symeon, and he was under Father Hammond's thumb. The dark room in the Albany, or a cell in La Trappe! There's not much difference." "From a racing stable to a cloister is a bit of a leap in the dark." "Claude was always a bold rider. I've seen him skylarking over a hedge, on his way home, without knowing where he was to land." "I think he is rather lucky to land in a cloister," said the lady who had refused to tell people her theory of the Provana murder. "But I wonder what they think of it all in Scotland Yard!" THE END _Printed at The Chapel River Press, Kingston, Surrey._ * * * * * Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. Obvious printer's errors corrected. Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible, including obsolete and variant spellings, non-standard punctuation, inconsistently hyphenated words, and other inconsistencies. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Beyond These Voices, by M. E. Braddon