Tanya Korasov had rushed to the sprawling figure in the Prince Albert coat, lifted its head, and then recoiled in horror, her face hidden in her hands.
"You saw," Rowland repeated as he came toward them, "all of you--it was self-defense."
They drew back as he came down the steps but made no effort to molest him.
"The Golden Bough!" the shock-headed man said again. And another, "It is broken."
It was no time for such gibberish. Rowland turned them a scornful shoulder and went over to the girl beside the motionless black figure.
To the question in his eyes the girl's eyes replied.
"He is--dead," she whispered.
And then looked up at Rowland, gaze wide and lips parted.
"And you----"
If there was horror, there was no reproach in her tone. Her attitude was more one of consternation and surprise.