"It was not locked?"
"No; we never lock our bedroom doors."
"Go on,—and then?"
"Then"—Thorpe spoke slowly, as if choosing his words—"then, I saw him lying in the bed,—still,—as if asleep. I went closer, and I saw by the look on his face that he was dead."
"You knew that at once?" asked Middleton. "You didn't think he was only asleep——"
"No,—the pallor was unmistakable——"
"Have you often looked upon death?"
"Never before,—except at a funeral."
"And yet you knew at once it was death you saw,—not sleep. That is remarkable, Mr. Thorpe."
Thorpe met Middleton's eyes, and then his own fell.