“Ten years of horror, struggling all the while to keep him from that other self, that thing of bestiality, to keep his horrible secret from the world, to cover up his crimes, even though their shadow should rest upon me. Now Sanford Quest has come. Will this mean discovery?”
“Another page,” Lenora faltered.
“No more,” Quest said. “Don’t you see where it is leading us? We have the truth here. Wait!”
He strode hastily to the door. French and one of the plain-clothes men were descending the stairs.
“Well?” Quest asked breathlessly.
“The Professor is not in the house,” French reported. “We are going to search the grounds.”
Quest returned to the library. Lenora clung to his arm. The diary lay still upon the table.
Quest opened the volume slowly. Again they all read together:
“The evil nature is growing stronger every day. He is developing a sort of ferocious cunning to help him in his crimes. He wanders about in the dark, wearing a black velvet suit with holes for his eyes, and leaving only his hands exposed. I have watched him come into a half-darkened room and one can see nothing but the hands and the eyes; sometimes if he closes his eyes, only the hands.”
“Mrs. Rheinholdt!” Quest muttered. “Wait. I know where that suit is.”