She opened the door and switched on the light. Mrs. DeBrugh lay in the bed as in sleep, but Letty knew, as she had known about Mr. DeBrugh, that it was more than sleep. She quickly called the doctor, and sometime much later he arrived, his eyes heavy from lack of sleep. "Dead," he remarked, after looking at the body. "Probably had a shock. Fright, nightmare, or something her heart couldn't stand. I always thought she would have died first." Letty walked slowly from the room, down the stairs, still in her robe and slippers. The doctor followed and passed her, going through the door into the outside. She walked, as though directed by some unseen force, into Mr. DeBrugh's study. She switched on a lamp beside the sofa on which he had always sat; and she noticed that it was moved slightly out of place. There was something else about the room, some memory of old days. First she saw some sort of legal document on the table and wondered at its being there. The title said: _Last Will and Testament of Hector A. DeBrugh+. It was brief. She read it through and found that Mr. DeBrugh had spoken truthfully in his promise to her. Beside the will on the table was another object, and she knew then what the "something else" in the room was. The meerschaum! It lay there beside the document, and a thin spiral of grayish smoke rose upward from it toward the ceiling. No longer did Letty wonder about anything.