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Stevenson, Burton Egbert, 1872-1962

"The Gloved Hand"

As I looked around, I was surprised to see that even Godfrey
had departed. There was something depressing about the jumble of
chairs and tables, the litter of paper on the grass--something sordid,
as of a banquet-hall deserted by the diners.
I turned away and started for the gate; and then, suddenly, I wondered
who was in charge of the house. Who would give orders to clear away
this litter? Who would arrange for the funeral on the morrow? How
could Miss Vaughan do it, ill as she was? With quick resolution, I
turned back toward the house. As I did so, I was surprised to see a
man appear at the edge of the lawn and run toward me. It was Hinman.
"I was afraid I'd missed you," he said. "Miss Vaughan wishes to see
you. She's all alone here and needs some help."
"I'd thought of that," I said. "I was just coming to offer it. Is she
better?"
"Yes, much better. I think she has realised the necessity of
conquering her nerves. Of course, we must still be careful."
I nodded, and followed him into the house. Then I stopped in
astonishment, for Miss Vaughan was sitting in a chair in the library.
She rose as I entered, came a step toward me and held out her hand.


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