Murray was some seconds in arranging the bottles to his satisfaction, and Vera relished the cool wind as it fanned her hot cheeks. She longed to be out-of-doors, but with Millicent ill she felt that it was but right to relieve Mrs. Hall so that the day nurse could attend the latest case. She, personally, did not require a great amount of sleep, and the events of the night before had effectually deprived her of peaceful slumber during the two hours she had lain down earlier in the morning. She felt that she could not rest until the mystery of the razor was explained, and yet how could she get an explanation from Millicent as to how the razor came into her possession, when she was too ill to be interviewed? She had the alternative of asking Beverly Thorne if he had taken the razor from her as they knelt in the shelter of the hedge waiting for Detective Mitchell to depart. But at the idea Vera’s heart beat with uncomfortable haste. Among her chaotic experiences following her pursuit of Millicent one incident was indelibly impressed upon her memory--Thorne’s impassioned whisper, “Vera, my love, my love!” as they crouched by the hedge, had not only reached her ears but found response in her heart. “Have you heard the news, miss?” asked Murray, after carefully closing the window, and Vera, on the point of replacing the screen in its corner, paused and eyed him sharply. “What news?” “Dr. Noyes has been took.” “Took?” “Arrested, miss; the perlice has him, at least, the sheriff.” Murray scratched his head. “They both puts him in jail, leastways that’s what Mr. Hugh said just now before they went off in the motor.” The footman’s comments, however, fell on deaf ears. Alan Noyes arrested? Vera clung to the screen, her knees trembling under her. “Why did the sheriff arrest him?” she demanded, in barely more than a whisper. “He thinks the doctor killed Mr. Brainard.” Murray reached forward to catch her as she swayed toward him. “Did I tell you too sudden, miss? Will you have a drink?” Vera breathed deeply. “No, no,” she protested. “I--Dr. Noyes said that he might be back, but I did not understand.” She stopped to gain control over her shaking voice. “Who will attend Mr. Craig now?” “I don’t know, miss.” Murray, like Vera, kept his voice lowered, and, standing on the other side of the screen, neither was aware of a movement in the other part of the room. “It don’t seem right, miss, when the doctor returned to attend Mr. Craig, that he should be taken away just when Mr. Craig needs him.”