“I did not understand you, policeman. Is anything the matter?”
“Well, Miss, that’s for you to say;” and he related what he had seen.
“It is very strange. My father’s door is locked, and there is no light.”
“Yes, Miss—one over the door.”
“Yes, but that only shines into the surgery. My brother has not come back.”
“But the doctor had company, Miss: that gentleman who had taken too much.”
“Oh, no; impossible.”
“Then I have been done!” cried the man, striking his left hand a blow with his fist, as if to clinch the thought which had been troubling him.
“I don’t understand you.”
“Well, Miss, I’m afraid there’s something wrong. But the doctor?”