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'made my finger-nails itch to set their mark on his face.
I was sent on an errand by Miss Agnes; and I met him coming out

of his dentist's door--and, thank God, that's the last I ever saw
of him!'

Thanks to the nurse's quick temper and quaint way of expressing
herself, the object of Henry's inquiries was gained already!

He ventured on asking if she had noticed the situation of the house.
She had noticed, and still remembered the situation--

did Master Henry suppose she had lost the use of her senses,
because she happened to be nigh on eighty years old? The same day,

he took the false teeth to the dentist, and set all further doubt
(if doubt had still been possible) at rest for ever. The teeth had

been made for the first Lord Montbarry.
Henry never revealed the existence of this last link in the chain

of discovery to any living creature, his brother Stephen included.
He carried his terrible secret with him to the grave.

There was one other event in the memorable past on which he preserved
the same compassionate silence. Little Mrs. Ferrari never knew that

her husband had been--not, as she supposed, the Countess's victim--
but the Countess's accomplice. She still believed that the late Lord

Montbarry had sent her the thousand-pound note, and still recoiled
from making use of a present which she persisted in declaring had

'the stain of her husband's blood on it.' Agnes, with the widow's
entire approval, took the money to the Children's Hospital;

and spent it in adding to the number of the beds.
In the spring of the new year, the marriage took place.

At the special request of Agnes, the members of the family were the only
persons present at the ceremony. There was no wedding breakfast--

and the honeymoon was spent in the retirement of a cottage on
the banks of the Thames.

During the last few days of the residence of the newly married
couple by the riverside, Lady Montbarry's children were invited

to enjoy a day's play in the garden. The eldest girl overheard
(and reported to her mother) a little conjugal dialogue which touched

on the topic of The Haunted Hotel.
'Henry, I want you to give me a kiss.'

'There it is, my dear.'
'Now I am your wife, may I speak to you about something?'

'What is it?'
'Something that happened the day before we left Venice.

You saw the Countess, during the last hours of her life.
Won't you tell me whether she made any confession to you?'

'No consciousconfession, Agnes--and therefore no confession that I
need distress you by repeating.'

'Did she say nothing about what she saw or heard, on that dreadful
night in my room?'

'Nothing. We only know that her mind never recovered the terror
of it.'

Agnes was not quite satisfied. The subject troubled her.
Even her own brief intercourse with her miserable rival

of other days suggested questions that perplexed her.
She remembered the Countess's prediction. 'You have to bring me

to the day of discovery, and to the punishment that is my doom.'
Had the prediction simply faded, like other mortal prophecies?--

or had it been fulfilled on the terrible night when she had seen
the apparition, and when she had innocently tempted the Countess

to watch her in her room?
Let it, however, be recorded, among the other virtues of Mrs. Henry

Westwick, that she never again attempted to persuade her husband
into betraying his secrets. Other men's wives, hearing of this

extraordinary conduct (and being trained in the modern school of morals
and manners), naturally regarded her with compassionatecontempt. They

spoke of Agnes, from that time forth, as 'rather an old-fashioned person.'
Is that all?

That is all.
Is there no explanation of the mystery of The Haunted Hotel?

Ask yourself if there is any explanation of the mystery of your own
life and death.--Farewell.

End


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