The Glass Slipper by Mignon G. Eberhart Page A

doorway, eyes seeking Angel’s. “It’s the doc,” he said. “Says it’s poison all right. Lethal quantity of some synthetic poison, he doesn’t know what yet. Probably a barbituric acid derivative. Can’t tell till he runs some more tests. Says it looks to him like murder, all right. But he says there’s an awful funny thing. The girl’s hands have turned green, bright green on the —”
    “ Cary! That’ll do ! All right, Cole, you and Mrs Hatterick can go. That’s all except hold yourself ready for further inquiry. Now then, Cary. Her hands — Close that door.”
    The door closed behind them. Someone had hung up the telephone. Rue turned, bewildered, to Guy.
    ‘What do they mean? Julie’s hands?”
    His eyes met her own; they were wide, blue, dewy-looking. “I don’t know what they meant,” he said slowly.
    The door of the music room opened, and they both looked that way. Alicia and Brule appeared in the doorway, outlined clearly against the lighted long room behind them. Brule apparently had opened the door, and as he did so both appeared to pause for another word. They didn’t note the presence of Guy Cole and of Rue in the hall. For Alicia turned suddenly to face Brule, said something low and put her head in an affectionate gesture against Brule’s shoulder. It was a small gesture, barely sketched, so brief was it. But there was the most definite air of accustomedness about it.
    Guy cleared his throat abruptly.
    “Come along, Rue,” he said. “Green hands — want to know what Brule thinks.”
    Andy was waiting in the library. Andy, who had said he loved her. She followed Guy toward the library, and the couple at the door of the music room saw them and came toward them.

CHAPTER VIII
    “G reen hands!” said Brule. “Did you say green?”
    Guy shrugged his bulging shoulders. “That’s what the fellow said. Then Angel shushed him and put us out and had the door closed so we couldn’t hear any more. Green hands.”
    “But that isn’t so,” said Brule. “When I looked at the girl there was nothing like that.” He turned to Andy. “Did you see anything of the kind?”
    Andy shook his head.
    “No. It sounds — fantastic. Is there any poison, Brule, that could have such an effect?”
    “If an internal poison had the effect of color on the skin after death, it wouldn’t confine itself to the hands, the whole circulatory system would have been affected; and that certainly not after death, but before. Anyway…” Brule walked over to the mantel and stood with his back to it. “I’m inclined to think it’s something the fellows in the laboratory have done — accidentally, like as not; they are no more immune to mistakes than the rest of us. It does sound fantastic. But there are chemicals…” he left it at that.
    And as always, they accepted Brule’s word as final.
    Alicia rose and went to the telephone on the long desk.
    “How much longer will it be, do you suppose?” she said to Brule. “I had promised the Sidneys —”
    “Better telephone and tell them you can’t make it. Be careful though —”
    “Good heavens, Brule, you needn’t tell me to be careful what I say! Do you suppose for one instant all this inquiry is going to be pleasant for me?” She took the telephone and dialed. A maid came into the room with a tray and was followed by the upstairs girl with another; the trays contained coffee and sandwiches, and both girls were pale, with excited eyes, and cast rapid, curious glances about them.
    “That’s right,” said Brule. “No use trying to have dinner when everything’s so upset, but you’ve got to eat.” The maids, faces avid with curiosity, went away, and Brule poured coffee, and Andy brought a cup of it to Rue. Alicia was talking over the telephone, and Steven had asked Brule some question and Brule was replying. Andy spoke in a low voice, inaudible to the others.
    “I’ve got to see you alone, Rue,” he said. His fingers touched her own as she took