Why didn’t he die?” Anna sprang to her feet and walked restlessly up and down the room. . Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself. Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. “I’m not so sure. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. “My father’s sisters used once to live in the old manor house.
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