"It seemed to me that he was leaning far forward, putting most of his weight on his left foot and balancing himself with the right thrust out behind him. There was something in the position of that leg which suggested great strength.
"All that came to me in a minute, in a second. When I realized what I saw, the danger to Enid, I fainted, just crumpled up and slid to the floor, and everything went black before me. I don't think I had made a sound since leaving the sleeping porch."
Bristow spoke quickly.
"Miss Fulton, who was the man?"
She overcame a momentary reluctance.
"I'm not sure," she said slowly. "I am not sure. I thought it was either Henry Morley or George Withers."
She turned away. A tremor shook her from head to foot.
"Why?" he asked.
"First, the voice," she replied, her face still averted. "It could so easily have been Mr. Morley's high voice lowered to a whisper; or it might have been George Withers'. When he's angry, his deep voice undergoes a curious change; it's horrid."
"And the second reason?"