"
I opened my eyes. In the words, as I came back to consciousness, I
found nothing remarkable, nor for a few seconds did it surprise me
that the dark gallery had changed into a panelled, lighted room, with
candles shining on a long, white table, and on flowers and crystal
decanters, and dishes heaped with fruit. The candles were shaded,
and from the sofa where I lay I saw across the cloth the faces of
Miss Belcher and Captain Branscome intent on the Doctor.
He was leaning forward from the head of the table and speaking to
Plinny, who sat with her back to me, darkly silhouetted against the
light. Mr. Rogers, on Plinny's left, had turned his chair sideways
and was listening too; and at the lower end of the board a tall
epergue of silver partially hid the form of Mr. Goodfellow.
"Yes, indeed, I ought to have told you," went on the Doctor's voice.
"But really no recovery could be expected. The man's heart was
utterly diseased."
His gaze, travelling past Plinny, wandered as if casually towards me,
where I lay in the penumbra. I felt it coming, and closed my eyes;
and on the instant my brain cleared.
Yes; Glass was dead, of course, poisoned by this man as ruthlessly as
these my friends would be poisoned if I cried out no warning.
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