Everything fitted him.
For an hour he listened for footsteps in the hall, and occasionally looked out of the window.

He wondered if Josephine had seen the small round hole with its myriad of out-shooting cracks where the bullet had pierced the glass.

He had made up his mind that she had not, for no one could mistake it, and she would surely have spoken to him of it.

He found that the hole was so high up on the pane that he could draw the curtain over it without shutting out much light.

He did this.
Later he went outside, and found that the dogs regarded him with certain signs of friendship.