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           Therewasmyhousejacket,thecoatIusuallywearafterdinner,hangingonitspegbythewardrobe,withtherightsleevethicklycrustedfromwristtoelbowwithdaubsofgreenpaint.Sothiswaswhatshemeantbyanotherturnofthescrew!Shehadmadeapublicimbecileofme.Nowshewouldbrandmeasacriminal.Thistimeshehasfailed.Buthowaboutthenext?Idarenotthinkofit—andofAgathaandmypooroldmother!IwishthatIweredead!Yes,thisistheotherturnofthescrew.Andthisisalsowhatshemeant,nodoubt,whenshesaidthatIhadnotrealizedyetthepowershehasoverme.Ilookbackatmyaccountofmyconversationwithher,andIseehowshedeclaredthatwithaslightexertionofherwillhersubjectwouldbeconscious,andwithastrongeroneunconscious.LastnightIwasunconscious.IcouldhaveswornthatIsleptsoundlyinmybedwithoutsomuchasadream.AndyetthosestainstellmethatIdressed,mademywayout,attemptedtoopenthebankwindows,andreturned.WasIobserved?Isitpossiblethatsomeonesawmedoitandfollowedmehome?Ah,whatahellmylifehasbecome!Ihavenopeace,norest.Butmypatienceisnearingitsend.10P.M.Ihavecleanedmycoatwithturpentine.Idonotthinkthatanyonecouldhaveseenme.Itwaswithmyscrew-driverthatImadethemarks.Ifounditallcrustedwithpaint,andIhavecleanedit.Myheadachesasifitwouldburst,andIhavetakenfivegrainsofantipyrine.IfitwerenotforAgatha,Ishouldhavetakenfiftyandhadanendofit.May3.Threequietdays.Thishellfiendislikeacatwithamouse.