The memory of everyone present moved back into the past, recalling images.
"That's true," admitted Rich, with the same abruptness. "I saw him do it myself."
"Then you—" Ann looked at Rich—"told him to put the revolver and the dagger on that little table. He got up, and went to the table, and put them down, and came back here.
But not one of the rest of us has been anywhere near that table since."
The recollection was so clear, the fact so undeniable, that no one spoke. They all turned to look at the table, which was in the middle of the room at least twelve feet away from the huddled group round the easy chair.
Ann hesitated, moistening her pink lips. "Please. I don't want you to think I'm intruding, or speaking up when I shouldn't. But look.
"None of us left this semi-circle where we were standing or sitting. We stayed where we were, even when Vicky was out of the circle herself and going to the other end of the room. Dr. Rich didn't follow her: he stayed here too. We could all see each other all of the time. Nobody went near that table. None of us could have exchanged the daggers."
Once more the long pause stretched out….
"That's true!" Sharpless exploded. "It's as true as gospel!"
Rich managed a smile, a heavy, uneasy twist of a smile.