"Then she raised the bottle and dashed something into my face. "It seemed hot, stinging, and made my eyes burn frightfully. I was sure it was vitriol, and the thought was too much for me I guess, for I felt myself falling and--well, that's all I remember until I woke up and found the doctor and mother there. It was a terrible experience. I could scarcely believe them, when they told me, after I came to, that I wasn't really hurt at all." Duvall looked at the girl's face. It showed no signs of injury, although her eyes were red and inflamed. "Then it wasn't vitriol after all?" he asked, wondering. "No, it apparently wasn't. The doctor said he thought it must have been ammonia." "Remarkable!" Duvall muttered to himself. "Why should she have gone to all that trouble, just to frighten you?" "That's apparently all she intended to do from the start. Do you know, Mr. Duvall, I've been thinking this thing over, and I believe her whole plan from the beginning was merely to ruin me in my work by _fear_. And I must say that she very nearly succeeded." "Very nearly," said Duvall, with a frown. "If this thing had kept up for another week or two, you would have been a complete nervous wreck." "I am now, I'm afraid," Miss Morton said, sadly. "I don't feel as though I could act again for a long time." "Oh, yes, you will. You have youth, and that is everything. And now, tell me, do you think if you took a look at this woman you might recognize her?" The girl shuddered. "Is she--here?" she asked. "Yes. In the library." "You think it would be quite safe?" "Quite. She can do you no harm while I am here." "Very well. I will see her if you wish it, but I am very much afraid that I shall not be able to identify her." Duvall held out his hand. "Come," he said. "I will take you in." Miss Morton rose, and walking slowly and with considerable effort, went with him into the front room. Standing in the doorway, with the detective beside her, she confronted the two women. They regarded her with stony indifference. "Miss Morton," Duvall said, "do you recognize either of these two women as the one who attacked you in your rooms last night?" The girl gazed helplessly from Miss Ford to her companion and back again. Then she slowly shook her head. "No," she said. "It might have been either of them. They look somewhat alike. But as for saying which one it was, if it _was_ either of them, I'm afraid I can't. The woman was veiled. The room was not brightly lighted. And I was very much frightened." The look of disappointment in Duvall's face was reflected in that of both Grace and Mrs. Morton. The two women, on the contrary, seemed vastly relieved. Miss Norman's mouth curled in rather an ironical smile.