Paul Harker laughed wildly.
"Yes, I know. To get brandy. Before I knew——"
He paused as a footman opened the door.
"Bring this gentleman's overcoat," ordered the doctor, "up to this room. And be careful to see that nothing falls out of the pockets."
With one horrified glance at the motionless figure in the chair, the footman fled, returning almost immediately with the coat.
"This is your coat?" asked the doctor.
"It is," said Billy.
And then in a tense silence the doctor extracted twenty large pearls from different pockets.
"You murderer!" Paul Harker's voice whispered words seemed to ring through the room, and with a little strangled gasp a woman fainted. The doctor's face, grim and accusing, was turned on Billy, as if demanding some explanation which he knew full well could not be given. And of all those present only Billy Merton himself seemed cool and calm, as, with his hands still in his pockets, he faced the ring of his accusers.
"What have you to say?" said the doctor, sternly.