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IN THE LIBRARY.
I was still in Mrs.Packard's room, brooding over the enigma offered by the similarity between the account I had just read and the explanation she had given of the mysterious event which had thrown such a cloud over her life, when, moved by some unaccountable influence, I glanced up and saw Nixon standing in the open doorway, gazing at me with an uneasy curiosity I was sorry enough to have inspired.
"Mrs.Packard wants you," he declared with short ceremony.

"She's in the library." And, turning on his heel, he took his deliberate way down-stairs.
I followed hard after him, and, being brisk in my movements, was at his back before he was half-way to the bottom.

He seemed to resent this, for he turned a baleful look back at me and purposely delayed his steps without giving me the right of way.
"Is Mrs.Packard in a hurry ?" I asked.

"If so, you had better let me pass." He gave no appearance of having heard me; his attention had been caught by something going on at the rear of the hall we were now approaching.
Following his anxious glance, I saw the door of the mayor's study open and Mrs.Packard come out.