In the wall directly opposite was a mantelpiece with an ornate mirror behind the shelf. And in front of this mantel piece, his back to the new-comers, a tall and heavy man stood with his head bowed., They saw past his shoulder a foolish plaster figurine standing on the mantelshelf; a woman painted in bright colours, with,a tight-waisted dress and a silver hair-net, But there was no companion figure beside it. The hearthstone was littered with a. thousand white fragments to show where the other figure had been flung down a moment before.
Just for a moment the tableau held — weird and somehow terrible in its power. The echo of that crash seemed to linger; its passion still quivered in the bent back of the man standing there.
Then his hand moved out slowly, and seized the other figure. And as he raised it his head lifted and they saw his face in the mirror.
`Good evening,' said, Dr Fell. `You're Mr Lester Bitton, aren't you?'
11. The Little Plaster Dolls
Never before that time, Rampole afterwards thought, had he ever seen a man's naked face. Never had he seen it as for a brief instant he saw Lester Bitton's face in the mirror. At all times in life there are masks and guards, and in the brain a tiny bell gives warning. But here was a man caught blind in his anguish.
He looked a little like his brother, though his face was inclined to be reddish and have heavy folds. But you could not tell now.
The lost, damned eyes stared back at them from the mirror. His wrist wobbled, and the figure almost slid through his fingers. He took it with his other hand and put it back up on the mantelpiece..
`Who the hell,' said Lester Bitton, `are you?'
His deep voice was hoarse, and it cracked. That almost finished him, but he fought his nerves. `What God damned right have you got to walk in… '