“Well, a heavy black curtain hung over the opposite windows, making an almost perfect mirror of the plate glass in the sash.”

“Well—well?”

“And there, in that mirror, I saw the body of a dead man lying in the back parlor of the doctor’s flat.”

“Was the doctor there?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“What was he doing—preparing to cut up the body?”

“No; he was cleaning up.”

The head of the house resumed his paper for a moment and then laid it down again.