Page:Bailey - Call Mr Fortune (Dutton, 1921).djvu/61

50 "He came last night. We were so gay. Miss Bolton—oh, poor Birdie!"

"We can't undo that, my dear. Let's do what we can for her. Did he stay late?"

"Rather. I don't know. I was sleepy. But Birdie was so gay. And then—and then he went away and Birdie began to talk about him. I don't know how it happened. She said something—and I felt I just had to tell her—I told her he had proposed to me. And then she was furious. Oh, have you ever seen her in one of her rages? She was terrible. She said dreadful things. And I—I felt as if I couldn't do anything at all. I was dazed and faint and just sat. I know she hit me."

"I saw the bruise," Reggie said gently, looking at the blue mark on her neck.

"Then she stormed out of the room, and—oh, doctor, I don't know—perhaps I fainted—it was as if I was all lead in that chair. I thought I was asleep. And then it was like a horrible, horrible dream—I saw her being killed. She was on the sofa, and some one was hitting at her. Oh, doctor, did I do it? Was it a dream? Did I really do it?"

"You saw—or you dreamed—who was it struck her in your dream?"

"Oh, I don't know. It was just like a dream when you can't tell. I know it was Birdie. But was it me killed her?"