'By-and-by I learnt that they were in serious difficulties. Young Powitt was married, but his wife left him--I believe he had taken to drink. There was a glass partition between my room and Mr. Ravengar's--ground glass at the bottom, clear glass at the top. One night, after hours, I went back to the office for an umbrella which I had forgotten, and I found young Powitt trying to open the petty-cash-box in my room. He had not succeeded, and I just told him to go, and that I should forget I had seen him there. He kissed my hand. And just then the outer door of the office opened, and someone entered. I turned off the light in my room. Young Powitt crouched down. It was Mr. Ravengar. He went to his own room. I jumped on a chair, and looked through the glass screen. Old Powitt was hanging by the neck from the brass curtain-rod in Mr. Ravengar's room. While young Powitt was trying to get out of their difficulties by thieving, old Powitt had taken a shorter way. Mr. Ravengar looked at the body swinging there, and I heard him say, "Ah!" Like that!' 'Great heaven!' cried Hugo, 'you've been through sufficient in your time!' 'Yes.' Camilla paused. 'Mr. Ravengar cut down the body, searched the pockets, took out a paper, read it, and put it in his own pocket. Then the old man's lips twitched. He was not quite dead, after all. Mr. Ravengar stared at the face; and then, by means of putting a chair on a table and lifting Powitt on to the chair, he tied up the cord which he had cut, and left the poor old man to swing again. It was an--an interrupted suicide.' She stopped once more, and Hugo fervently wished he had never asked her to begin. He gazed at her set face with a fascinated glance. 'All this time,' she resumed, 'young Powitt had been crouching on the floor, and had seen nothing.' 'And what did you do?'