"Won't you wait for tea?" she whispered. "He would probably be awake by then."
I shook my head.
"I must get back to London by five. Do you mind if we have a little more light?"
She moved to the window and raised the blind half way. I examined the old man attentively. There was no doubt about the curious pallor of his skin. It was like the pallor of extreme collapse, save for the presence of a faint colour in his cheeks which seemed to lie as a bright transparency over a dead background. My fingers again sought his pulse. It was full and steady. As I counted it my eyes rested on his hand.
I stooped down suddenly with an exclamation. Alice hurried to my side.
"Where did those friends of his come from?" I asked swiftly.
"The Perrys? From Birmingham."
"Was there anything wrong with them?"
"What do you mean?"
Before I could reply the old man opened his eyes. The light fell clearly on his face. Alice uttered a cry of horror. I experienced an extraordinary sensation of fear. Out of the marble pallor of Mr. Annot's face, two eyes, stained a sparrow-egg blue, stared keenly at us.