At the angle stood a row of houses, some of them being repaired. Jack heard somebody speak to somebody else a little way down the road. He looked across at the opposite houses to see that they were in scaffolding and that they were plastered with bills. A little way above the ground in front of the centre house being repaired was one of the repulsive, clever Nostalgo posters with the yellow face looking out.
But there was something else lying there at full length on the pavement, the body of a man with his face up to the stars. With a little cry Jack crossed the road. Almost instantly a policeman stood by his side.
"Drunk," he said. "A gentleman who's just gone down the road told me a man was lying drunk on the pavement. My word, sir, but he's got the complaint pretty bad."
"He has," Jack said, with a catch in his voice. "The man isn't drunk; he's dead. He's been murdered. Shot through the head and breast. Show your lantern here, officer."
The officer flashed the strong, searching rays on the face of the dead man. As he did so he gave a cry, and pointed to the hoarding behind him with a finger that shook a little.
"Dead, sir, and murdered, beyond doubt," he said. "But that's not the strangest part of it. Look at his face and the expression of his eyes; look at the yellow face and----"
"Good heaven!" Jack cried. "The yellow face, the face of the diabolical poster behind you. As I am a living man, we have found Nostalgo in the flesh."
The dead man grinned up, the poster grinned down. And the face of the dead and the face in the print were exactly the same!