'Some of the people outside may have heard me.' Henry moved mechanically to the door.
Even when he had his hand on the key, ready to turn it in the lock in case of necessity, he still looked back at the appalling object on the floor.

There was no possibility of identifying those decayed and distorted features with any living creature whom he had seen--and, yet, he was conscious of feeling a vague and awful doubt which shook him to the soul.

The questions which had tortured the mind of Agnes, were now his questions too.

He asked himself, 'In whose likeness might I have recognised it before the decay set in?
The likeness of Ferrari?
or the likeness of-- ?' He paused trembling, as Agnes had paused trembling before him.

Agnes! The name, of all women's names the dearest to him, was a terror to him now! What was he to say to her?
What might be the consequence if he trusted her with the terrible truth?
No footsteps approached the door; no voices were audible outside.