“Yes, the same,” was her quiet reply.  Then she turned to Murie, and said, “We all went about a great deal together, for it was summer-time, and we made many pleasant excursions in the district.  Edna Bryant was a merry, cheerful girl, and I soon grew to be very friendly with her, until one day Lady Heyburn, when alone with me, repeated in strict confidence that the girl was secretly devoted to you, Walter.”

“To me!” he cried.  “True, I knew a Miss Bryant long ago, but for the past three years or so have entirely lost sight of her.”

“Lady Heyburn told me that you were very fond of the girl, and this, I confess, aroused my intense jealousy.  I believed that the girl I had trusted so implicitly was unprincipled and fickle, and that she was trying to secure the man whom I had loved ever since a child.  I had to return to school, and from there I wrote to Lady Heyburn, who had gone to Dieppe, a letter saying hard things of the girl, and declaring that I would take secret revenge—­that I would kill her rather than allow Walter to be taken from me.  A month afterwards I again returned to Paris.  That man standing there”—­she indicated Flockart—­“was living at the Hotel Continental, and was a frequent visitor.  He told me that it was well known in London that Walter admired Miss Bryant, a declaration that I admit drove me half-mad with jealousy.”

“It was a lie!” declared Walter.  “I never made love to the girl.  I admired her, that’s all.”

“Well,” laughed Flockart, “go on.  Tell us your version of the affair.”

“I am telling you the truth,” she cried, boldly facing him.  One day Lady Heyburn, having arranged a cycling picnic, invited Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Kratil, Mr. Flockart, Miss Bryant, and myself, and we had a beautiful run to Chantilly, a distance of about forty kilometres, where we first made a tour of the old chateau, and afterwards entered the cool shady Foret de Pontarme.  While the others went away to explore the paths in the splendid wood I was left to spread the luncheon upon the ground, setting before each place a half-bottle of red wine which I found in the baskets.  Then, when all was ready, I called to them, but there was no response.  They were all out of hearing.  I left the spot, and searched for a full twenty minutes or so before I discovered them.  First I found Mr. Krail and Mr. Flockart strolling together smoking, while the others were on ahead.  They had lost their way among the trees.  I led them back to the spot where luncheon was prepared; and, all of us being hungry, we quickly sat down, chatting and laughing merrily.  Of a sudden Miss Bryant stared straight before her, dropped her glass, and threw up her arms.  ‘Heavens!  Why—­ah, my throat!’ she shrieked.  ‘I—­I’m poisoned!’

“In an instant all was confusion.  The poor girl could not breathe.  She tore at her throat, while her face became convulsed.  We obtained water for her, but it was useless, for within five minutes she was stretched rigid upon the grass, unconscious, and a few moments later she was still—­quite dead!  Ah, shall I ever forget the scene!  The effect produced upon us was appalling.  All was so sudden, so tragic, so horrible!