It was in truth, repellent enough—doubly repellent now with that triumphant leer upon it—cold and hard, with cruel lines about the mouth; a bloated face, too, marked by dissipation and bestiality. I shuddered at the thought that Marcia Lawrence may have once been in his power—that he had tried to drag her down from her sweet girlish innocence——
"He deserved it!" I said hoarsely. "He deserved it—and more!"
"Yes," agreed Godfrey, "no doubt he did. If she was ever in his hands, she must have suffered the torments of hell."
He fell silent a moment, staring down at the face.
"But I don't understand," I burst out, forgetting for a moment to lower my voice; "I can't understand——"
Godfrey laid his hand sternly upon my lips.
"Neither do I," he said; "but don't shout like that."
The words recalled me suddenly to a sense of our danger.
"We'd better get out of this," I whispered.
"Yes—and as soon as we can. We'll have to call in the police. Besides," he added grimly, "I've got to get off the story and it's getting late."