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Rh shaking hands with Van der Welcke. "Constance!" he cried. "Constance! . . ."

She did not answer.

"Constance!" Gerrit called once more.

The kitchen-door was open.

"The mistress is in the drawing-room, sir," said the servant.

"Constance . . ."

He opened the door. But the door stuck, as though pushing against a body.

"What the devil! . . ." Gerrit began, in consternation.

They rushed in through the dining-room: Van der Welcke, Gerrit, the maid. Constance was lying against the door in a dead faint, with the telegram crumpled in her clenched hand:

"Paris. . .. "Henri dead. Am in despair. "."