Rachel had
expected to be terrified in the house; she was filled insted with anger
and indignation.
It was as she expected; not a trunk had been left; and the removal had
taken place that very week. This would account for the electric light
being still intact. Rachel discovered it by picking up a crumpled
newspaper, which seemed to have contained bread and cheese; it did
contain a report of the first day of the trial. They might have waited
till her trial was over; they should suffer for their impatience, it was
their turn. So angry was Rachel that her own room wounded her with no
memories of the past. It was an empty room, and nothing more; and only
on her return to the lower floor did that last dread night come back to
her in all its horror and all its pitifulness.
The double doors of the late professor! Rachel forgot her grudge against
his widow; she pulled the outer door, and pushed the inner one, just as
she had done in the small hours of that fatal morning, but this time all
was darkness within. She had to put on the electric light for herself.
The necessity she could not have explained, but it existed in her mind;
she must see the room again.
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