He paused again, looking around with a more defiant glare in his bloodshot eyes. He appeared to be surprised not to find them laughing at him.
"What's the matter with you all?" he cried. "Why ain't you making me out a fool? You seen something in that room, too?"
"Go on," Robinson urged. "What happened then? What did you do?"
Blackburn's voice resumed its throaty monotone. As he spoke he glanced about slyly, suspecting, perhaps, the watchfulness of the fancies that had intimidated him.
"I realized I had to get out if they would let me. So I left the bed. I went."
He ceased, intimating that he had told everything.
"I know," Robinson said, "but tell us how you got out of the room, for when you—when the murder was discovered, both doors were locked on the inside, and you know how impossible the windows are."
"I tell you," Katherine said hysterically, "it was his body in the bed."
Bobby knew her assurance was justified, but he motioned her to silence.
"Let him answer," Robinson said.