“Ah!” murmured the Doctor, and raised one shoulder higher than the other.
“Did anyone see him before—this?”
Miss Lebetwood spoke. “I was the first to see him, Mr. Bannerlee. He was kneeling, I thought, on the step outside the window—but he must have been—falling. . . .”
“Paula—don’t tell it, dearest,” cried Miss Mertoun.
“There’s nothing to tell,” said Paula Lebetwood, still brave, still vibrant, commanding. “I am not going to break down, Millicent dear. I—have told of myself. . . . That was all. He lifted his hand from the stone, as if he wanted to reach his head—but he fell forward. That’s all.”
“But that unholy bawling laughter—”
“It was from—somewhere else. It wasn’t very loud out here, but it was what made me look towards the House. Then I saw—him—while the laugh was still going on. But I didn’t scream until—afterward, when he fell.”
“The lights were on at the time, of course,” observed Doctor Aire.
“They had been on for a minute or so, I think,” said Miss Lebetwood. “But I had paid no particular attention when they were lit.”
“The fact is,” said the Doctor, “we don’t know where he was when he was struck. He must have been nearby—couldn’t have gone far with a bludgeoning like that.”