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Oemler, Marie Conway, 1879-1932

"A Woman Named Smith"

Bit by bit I have pieced scraps of evidence
together--Shooba's savage chant with Scipio's dying whisper in
Freeman's ear, and these two with a rude verse and a line of
dots. But there the thread snapped.
"Do you remember the morning you told me, The Author's guess that
'Hellen's Keye' was the Greek fret, the design over all the windows
and doors of Hynds House? The trail was plain then. I was to follow
the line of the Greek key for three and thirty turnings, when I
should come upon a sign. I tried and tried. And to-night--I reached
the end of it, Sophy. I found it." Again his forehead was damp, and
his pallor, if possible, deepened.
I rose as if on springs. The hair of my head rose, too, I thought,
and my scalp tingled.
"Found what?"
"The hidden room that the masters built for the master of Hynds
House." He stopped, and a shudder passed over him. His hand closed
upon mine, and it was deathly cold.
"You have been in a secret room?--here in Hynds House?" I asked
incredulously.
"Yes," said he in a whisper. "I opened the door--and went in. The
room hadn't been opened for a hundred years, Sophy. There was a
table in one corner, and I went over to it.


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