“
He turned to go, when her eyes fell suddenly upon the inscriptions she had noticed, and forgotten, on the walls of the room. They were cut into the polish of the wood, still showing the force of the pencil’s pressure in the hands that had made them, each in his own violent writing: “You’ll get over it—Ellis Wyatt” “It will be all right by morning—Ken Danagger” “It’s worth it—Roger Marsh.” There were others. “What is that?” she asked. He smiled. “This is the room where they spent their first night in the valley. The first night is the hardest. It’s the last pull of the break with one’s memories, and the worst. I let them stay here, so they can call for me, if they want me. I speak to them, if they can’t sleep. Most of them can’t. But they’re free of it by morning. . . .They’ve all gone through this room. Now they call it the torture chamber or the anteroom—because everyone has to enter the valley through my house.” He turned to go, he stopped on the threshold and added: “This is the room I never intended you to occupy. Good night, Miss Taggart.
”
”