The man living in the flat above the one where Nick Carter had been assaulted looked up from the morning paper.
“How do you know?” he asked.
The wife gave a little shiver as she answered:
“I saw it.”
The head of the family laid down the paper.
“When?” he asked.
“When I got up,” began the woman, “I stepped to the window looking into the airshaft. I did not sleep well last night, on account of the noise down there, and I thought I would see if everything there looked as usual.”
“Well?”
“Of course I couldn’t see into the rooms under us, so I turned my attention to the rooms on the other side of the shaft.”
“How slow you are. Go on.”