“Hush!” Vera held up a warning finger; her quick ears had caught the faint sound which accompanies the cautious closing of a door. Gliding from behind the screen she crossed the room and, peeping into the hall, was just in time to see the door of Millicent’s bedroom close. She stared thoughtfully at the mahogany door. It was not the sound made by Millicent’s door which had disturbed her; someone had opened Craig Porter’s door and been in his bedroom while she and the footman stood talking behind the screen. Why had the person not announced his or her presence? Vera turned back into the sick room and found Murray regarding Craig Porter sorrowfully. He was about to speak when he caught her gesture enjoining silence, and without a word tiptoed from the room. Several minutes elapsed before Vera moved over to the lunch tray and drank the bouillon almost at a gulp. As she set down the cup her eyes fell on a letter addressed to her lying on the tray. The envelope bore the words “Chesapeake and Potomac Telephone Company of Virginia” in the left-hand corner, and Vera almost snatched it up. Before she had more than torn off the envelope a rap sounded on the door, and still clutching the unread letter she went to answer it and discovered Dorothy standing in the hall. “I can’t come in.” Dorothy drew back and her low, strained voice seemed a counterpart of the haggard lines in her white face. “Do you know, Vera, that they have arrested Alan Noyes for the murder of Bruce?” “I have just heard it.” Vera glanced cautiously up and down the hall; apparently they had it to themselves. She pulled the bedroom door almost shut behind her. “Where is Hugh Wyndham?” “Gone with Alan Noyes and the sheriff to the court house.” Dorothy laid a steadying hand against the wall; she was trembling from head to foot. “Mrs. Porter said Hugh would arrange for Alan’s release on bail. Vera,” lifting pleading, anguished eyes to her sister, “are you going to speak?” A heavy tread on the stairs reached them, and without word or sign Vera retreated into the bedroom, leaving her sister’s question unanswered. With the door once safely closed she stopped and regarded Craig Porter, then going over to the desk she took up the chart and, glancing at her watch, registered the time and made the entry: “Patient renews plucking at bedclothes.” Putting down the chart she took up the letter from the telephone company, and smoothing out the sheet read the typewritten lines. It was from the branch manager of the company: In response to your request for information regarding the telephone call received by Central from the Porter mansion at 5.55 A.M. on Tuesday of this week, would say that Central reports that Dr. Beverly Thorne’s residence was called for, the speaker being a woman. Very truly yours--