Evening star., 1936-08-23

~ -O"UNOEo
in the place where he had struck her one
ferocious blow. But was she dead?
Strengthening himself he edged his way
out of the room, and went up the narrow,
steep staircase to the dark landing above.
No electric light1 How behind-hand was
this famous provincial town!
With numb. shaking fingers he lit the gas,
and went blindly into front room which he
knew must be the bedroom of the hapless
pair There he also Lit the gas. and quickly
took out the two top drawers of an old chest,
and emptied their contents onto the floor.
Then he opened the drawer of the dressing
table. There lay in it two or three small trink-
ets and these he slipped into one of his pock-
cts, before fastening back onto the landing.
There was another door there. and it was
ajar! Supposing there were someone in be-
hind ia young general servant maybe,
sleeping her afternoon away1
He pushed the door open; then gave gasp
of relief. 1t was only the bathroom - how
stupid of him not to have guessed that it was
that!
And then all at once, it was as if some
thing outside himself - something even more
fiendish than he now knew himself to be
instilled into his mind a suggestion of how
he could make sure of Jane Bosely's death
with no danger of discovery to himself.
Walking into the bathroom. he began un-
dressing with feverish haste. When stark
naked, he went downstairs, feeling not only
very strange, but also very cold.
In the hall he noticed macintosh, hang
ing up. Slipping it on, and finding it hanging
loosely on him, he remembered, in hazy
way, the then young Jane Smiths priggish
lover - tall. thin John Bosely. To think these
two had been married over thirty years
and happy? Yes. evidently very happy He
himself had not been happy in his relations
with women. yet he felt sure he was going
to be happy now, with clever. pleasant. pop
ular and, above all, immensely rich Alice
Mack - if only he could get away with Il
with this.
Slowly, indeed very, very slowly. he pushed
open the door of the little sitting-room How
awful it would be to find his victim come to
life again! But, to his relief, the huddled-up
figure lay just as he had left it few minutes
ago.
All the same, he had been away only ten
minutes, if as long; and he was not the man
to leave anything to which he put his hand,
unfinished. So he threw off the macintosh
with hasty movement and saw it fall partly
on the fire. But that didn't matter, one way
or another, as John Bosely wouldn't be in
for couple of hours. So he finished, de-
lberately, what he had, maybe, only begun.
Then once more he went up the narrow,
steep staircase, and almost as incredibly
quickly as he had undressed, he dressed him
self again.
One thing still worried him. Would the
police believe what had happened to be the
work of burglar1 With this doubt in his
mind, after going downstairs. he walked down
short passage leading to the kitchen, and
opened wide cupboard door.
Yes! This was better, for there stood
small silver teapot which he remembered had
belonged to the Jane Smith of long ago. It
was really good, valuable little piece. He
knew about such things now. So he took it
up, and hid it under his coat.
But once out of doors, panic smged over
him. Had he been fool to take away that