a matter of life and death for you. We must leave no stone unturned. I must search the house in your presence."
And they searched it thoroughly. The kitchen door proved to be securely fastened: the windows had all been carefully closed. There was not a nook or cranny in which anyone could hide. No means of egress could be discovered.
At length, they returned to the sitting-room.
Harding, who had had considerable experience of criminal work at the bar before taking "silk," felt himself completely nonplussed . . . provided Reggie was of sound mind. If the body on the floor was an hallucination, then the mystery ceased to exist. If his story—and he had told it lucidly and with no more excitement than the circumstances warranted—was accurate, that he had actually touched the dead man, then the mystery was so appalling as to be almost incredible. Either Clifford would return that night and, as a consequence, Reggie's mental condition would be inquired into by people competent for such an undertaking or . . . or there were more things in heaven and earth . . .
Vainly he cast his mind this way and that, seeking a clue. Automatically he stroked the bronzes on the mantelpiece. Suddenly he took up a pair of spectacles which were lying there, open.
"That's curious," he commented. "I didn't know Clifford had anything the matter with his eyes. He is one of the best shots I've ever seen."
