themselves. And now he takes a great deal of trouble to hide the clothes here, and doesn't bother about the body at all." He shook his head. "I'm a bit lost for the moment, Bill, and that's the fact."
"Anything else there?"
Antony felt in the bag.
"Stones and—yes, there's something else." He took it out and held it up. "There we are, Bill."
It was the office key.
"By Jove, you were right."
Antony felt in the bag again, and then turned it gently upside down on the grass. A dozen large stones fell out—and something else. He flashed down his torch.
"Another key," he said.
He put the two keys in his pocket, and sat there for a long time in silence, thinking. Bill was silent, too, not liking to interrupt his thoughts, but at last he said:
"Shall I put these things back?"
Antony looked up with a start.
"What? Oh, yes. No, I'll put them back. You give me a light, will you?"
Very slowly and carefully he put the clothes back in the bag, pausing as he took up each garment, in the certainty, as it seemed to Bill, that it had something to tell him if only he could read it. When the last of them was inside, he still waited there on his knees, thinking.
"That's the lot," said Bill.
