to be found about the wash basin, but the slab of marble in which it was set was damp as if it had just now been carefully cleansed. She watched, her wrinkled face set in an expression of contempt.
"What are you up to? Think if I wanted to do anything wrong I'd let you find me out?"
"Then you know," he said, "what happened out there in the hall. I heard you laugh."
She started. Her voice was lower. At last it was as old as herself.
"Things always happen out there. It is crowded with the people who have lived in this house before us—unhappy and angry people. Often I have seen and heard the black thing out there. I would never laugh at her."
Again the doubt of her senility attacked him.
"You can't impress me with that," he said harshly. "I am talking about McDonald. He was stabbed out there a few minutes ago."
She laughed foolishly.
"Horrid old man! But why should I want to see him stabbed?"
He watched her closely.
"I saw you strike him. You didn't have enough strength to send the blow home."
The assurance of her voice increased his doubt. Whatever her mental state she was at least purposeful.
"You need glasses, policeman. Don't neglect your eyes. You have only one pair."
He felt himself against a blank wall, and there
