He saw three people: a young man at the piano, an elderly man smoking in a corner, and a young woman reclining in a chair, her eyes closed. There was a great splash of blood upon it, her hand was all wet and sticky. “Just remember, I have to make this up to you. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. She had decided that she would spend the next morning answering advertisements in the papers that abounded in the writing-room; and so, after half an hour’s perusal of back numbers of the Sketch in the drawingroom, she had gone to bed. Whatever happened she need never return to that possibility. She dragged the broken bottle across her carotid artery, creating an inch-deep gash upon her throat. “And some of them quite pretty and well dressed. I was bawling so hard that the Nurse took pity on me and slipped me two Children’s Tylenol.
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