The walls were covered with books to a height of seven feet.
Above that one or two choice pictures were hung.
The fireplace was a fine piece of carved oak.
As far as they could see, the room was empty.
The windows were hasped, and there was no other entrance.
The library had originally been two rooms, and ran the full depth of the house. It had been adapted by Sir James, and was his favourite room.
A fussy little doctor arrived, and was brought into the room with the same precautions.
Sinclair introduced himself and his companion.
The doctor made a very careful examination, while the others waited.
“Dead,” he said. “I should think about half an hour, possibly more. It is difficult to tell exactly.” He looked up.