The distracted mother, staring at the two men, had listened stupidly. Suddenly she understood, and, pointing a scrawny finger at him, cried hysterically: "Ah--you are the murderer! You killed my child! He killed my child! Oh, justice in Heaven!" The effort was more than her weakened condition could stand. Sobbing violently, she fell prostrate over the body of her little daughter. The stranger turned to Tod, who was still engaged in reviving Paula. It seemed to Tod that he had seen the pale, sardonic face, those piercing eyes and jet black hair before. He could not tell just where. "You seem the only reasonable one here," said the stranger. "The woman's hysteria is only natural. I am entirely blameless in the matter. Of course, it is very sad, but these children of the tenements will run under the wheels of carriages. It is a wonder more are not killed." Looking at Paula, who was slowly coming to, he inquired: "Fainted, eh? One of the family?" Tod did not like the man's cold, indifferent, almost brutal manner. It was with an effort that he replied civilly: "No--this lady was merely paying a visit here. The child was one of her pupils. She is Miss Paula Marsh, teacher of the Rivington Street Settlement." The stranger started and looked at Paula more closely. "The niece of Mr. James Marsh?" he cried, in surprise. Tod nodded. "Yes." "How strange!" muttered the stranger. Drawing a card from his pocket, he said: "I am Dr. Zacharie!" Now Tod remembered where he had seen this man. It was through the keyhole of the library the night of that secret midnight meeting. Paula opened her eyes. At first she saw only Tod. Then her gaze, wandering round the room suddenly rested on Dr. Zacharie, who stood staring with his black, piercing eyes and sardonic smile, silently studying her. For a moment she stared back at him, without making a movement or a sound. A look of repulsion and fright came into her face. Suddenly she uttered a shriek: "The man of my dreams!" she cried. Then she fainted again. Dr. Zacharie put his finger on her pulse and turned to Tod. It seemed to the latter that a smile of satisfaction hovered about his mouth. "She's a highly nervous girl," he said, "and subject to strange hallucinations. I am a nerve specialist. Cases like this interest me. Her condition is well known to her uncle. He asked me to call and see her. It is a curious coincidence that I should meet her under these tragic circumstances. You had better get her home at once. My automobile is at your disposal." CHAPTER XII. Three weeks passed and Paula still felt the terrible shock of little Annie's death. The sad affair had made such an impression on her sensitive nature that she was compelled to give up her Settlement work temporarily if not altogether. For days she was haunted by the wretched mother's agonized face; that shrill scream of despair still rang in her ears.