Reaching the house, she pushed the door open and went in. Everything was so quiet that she fancied the girl must have gone to bed.
"Liz," she said aloud. "Liz!"
Her voice fell with an echoing sound upon the silent room. She looked at the bed and saw the child lying there asleep. Liz was not with it. She passed quickly into the room adjoining and glanced around. It was empty. Moved by some impulse she went back to the bed, and in bending over the child, saw a slip of paper pinned upon its breast, and upon this paper Joan read, in the sprawling, uncertain hand she knew so well:
"Dunnot be hard on me, Joan, dunnot—Good-bye!"
When Derrick entered the door, he found Joan standing alone in the center of the room, holding the scrap of paper in her hand.
