Suddenly there came a piercing scream from the bed beside hers.
Mademoiselle Duroc's door across the hall flew open, admitting a broad
stream of light.
"What is the matter?" demanded Mademoiselle. "Who screamed?"
For a moment no one spoke. Mademoiselle turned on the electric lights
and her sharp black eyes searched the room. Bebe and Annette, wakened by
the turmoil, sat up in bed, blinking at the light. Madge rolled over and
grunted. Elsie continued to snore serenely. But Amelia and Anne were
wide awake. Amelia was sitting bolt upright, staring about her. Anne had
not moved; she held the needle in her right hand, the unfinished bag in
her left; beside her on the pillow gleamed the jewels. Mademoiselle's
eyes took in every detail.
"I demand to know who screamed," she repeated.
Amelia spoke sheepishly. "I was so sound asleep," she said. "And then I
waked up. I can't help being 'fraid of ghosts and burglars and things.
I saw--it's Anne--but I didn't know. I just saw something between me and
the window, and the hand went up and down--up and down. It frightened
me. I screamed."
"It is the misfortune to be a so fearful coward," commented
Mademoiselle, dryly.
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