When Lizzie came at last to coax and scold her into bed, she was
sitting happily at the table surrounded by divers small articles
which she was handling with an almost childlike zest. A clipping
about the Bat from the evening newspaper; a piece of paper on which
was a well-defined fingerprint; a revolver and a heap of five shells;
a small very dead bat; the anonymous warnings, including the stone
in which the last one had been wrapped; a battered and broken watch,
somehow left behind; a dried and broken dinner roll; and the box of
sedative powders brought by Doctor Wells.
Lizzie came over to the table and surveyed her grimly.
"You see, Lizzie, it's quite a collection. I'm going to take them
and--"
But Lizzie bent over the table and picked up the box of powders.
"No, ma'am," she said with extreme finality. "You are not. You
are going to take these and go to bed."
And Miss Cornelia did.
End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Bat, by Rinehart and Hopwood
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