A chair was pushed back on the floor above their heads.
"He's got up from the table now, Mr. Arvid."
Both young men seemed familiar with the noise and its purport. Heavy, creaking footsteps crossed the floor, apparently in all directions, and a subdued murmur penetrated through the ceiling to the listeners below.
"Was he at home last night?" asked Falk.
"No, he was out."
"With friends or acquaintances?"
"Acquaintances."
"Did he come home late?"
"Very late."
"Do you think he'll be coming down soon, Andersson? I don't want to go upstairs on account of my sister-in-law."