She wrung her hands.
"I forgot!" she moaned. "Don't move the sofa while I am looking!"
There was a knock at the door. They both turned round. It was Groves' voice speaking. He had returned to the house and was waiting outside.
"Can I come in, madam?"
Fenella moved slowly towards the door and admitted him. Then Arnold, setting his teeth, rolled back the couch. A man was lying there, stretched at full length. His face was colorless except for a great blue bruise near his temple. Arnold stared at him for a moment with horrified eyes.
"My God!" he muttered.
There was a brief silence. Fenella looked across at Arnold.
"You know him!"
Arnold's first attempt at speech failed. When the words came they sounded choked. There was a horrible dry feeling in his throat.
"It is the man who looked in at the window that night," he whispered. "I saw him—only a few hours ago. It is the same man."