Larry's face was really unearthly sometimes, such strange gleams passed up on to it!
“Whom else should I tell? I came to know what I'm to do, Keith? Give myself up, or what?”
At that sudden introduction of the practical Keith felt his heart twitch. Was it then as real as all that? But he said, very quietly:
“Just tell me—How did it come about, this—affair?”
That question linked the dark, gruesome, fantastic nightmare on to actuality.
“When did it happen?”
“Last night.”
In Larry's face there was—there had always been—something childishly truthful. He would never stand a chance in court! And Keith said:
“How? Where? You'd better tell me quietly from the beginning. Drink this coffee; it'll clear your head.”
Laurence took the little blue cup and drained it.