VIII (8)

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On the floor? Rather on the roof itself, for, spread out over the floor, was a perfect image of that glazed studio roof high above us. The divisions between the panes were marvelously penciled there, and about one of them, though not the one I had expected, the browning branches of the mulberry crept and played. Something darted across and was gone—a bird.

And it was too late to bet now, for the book was closed. By merely seeing that the roof-blinds were open, and then pushing away a rug with his foot, Philip had confounded us all. Again I hardly heard his words: "House simply a big pinhole camera, you see...." Once more I was seeing what he had seen that morning so many months ago.

His mild astonishment at witnessing that phenomenon for the first time (for it was the first time)—

His interested realization of the cause of it as he had stood there with the bottle of liqueur in his hand——

And then the half-heard shock and the light tremor of the house and the whole astonishing scene instantly enacted before his eyes!

But I had little time to marvel anew. He was speaking.

"... so down they came, not at this end, but over there, in reverse, you know. And of course I'd no idea then it was Chummy; didn't learn that till the afternoon; I simply saw him point that pistol at the other man, who crumpled up. That was a shock, you understand, but you could have knocked me down with a feather when I saw another shape crawl across and pick the pistol up!... Eh? Oh, with the light above they were silhouettes more or less; we'll send somebody up and try if you like; but I knew it was Monty the moment I came upstairs and saw him."

"And then—-?"

"I'm afraid I can't give you any very clear account of it. Time didn't seem to exist, if you know what I mean. But I know that all of a sudden I was moving furniture about, to break up that beastly picture, a bit on a box top and another bit on a sofa-end and so on. It didn't seem quite decent, somehow, all spread out dead flat like that. But I don't wonder you fellows were puzzled."

"But," said Mackwith presently, as we still stood looking at that moonlike radiance spread across the floor, "why couldn't you tell us all this sooner?"

"What for?" Philip retorted. "It didn't take me long to realize that I'd told you a dashed sight too much as it was! I had to have it out with Monty and Chummy, of course; but the less said after that the better. Suppose it had been a common Murder Case. I saw it, and could have hanged a man straight away with a word. You didn't, so why fill you up with a lot of hearsay? Don't you think I was right?"

"Hush! Listen!"

It was the tinkling of the street door bell. Chummy Smith was back already.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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