There was a glass partition between my room and Mr. Ravengar's--ground
glass at the bottom, clear glass at the top. One night, after hours, I
went back to the office for an umbrella which I had forgotten, and I
found young Powitt trying to open the petty-cash-box in my room. He had
not succeeded, and I just told him to go, and that I should forget I had
seen him there. He kissed my hand. And just then the outer door of the
office opened, and someone entered. I turned off the light in my room.
Young Powitt crouched down. It was Mr. Ravengar. He went to his own
room. I jumped on a chair, and looked through the glass screen. Old
Powitt was hanging by the neck from the brass curtain-rod in Mr.
Ravengar's room. While young Powitt was trying to get out of their
difficulties by thieving, old Powitt had taken a shorter way. Mr.
Ravengar looked at the body swinging there, and I heard him say, "Ah!"
Like that!'
'Great heaven!' cried Hugo, 'you've been through sufficient in your
time!'
'Yes.' Camilla paused. 'Mr. Ravengar cut down the body, searched the
pockets, took out a paper, read it, and put it in his own pocket. Then
the old man's lips twitched. He was not quite dead, after all. Mr.
Ravengar stared at the face; and then, by means of putting a chair on a
table and lifting Powitt on to the chair, he tied up the cord which he
had cut, and left the poor old man to swing again.
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