I'd have been annoyed if I knew you had passed without coming in." And Muriel, a pretty figure in a low-cut gown of turquoise chiffon, standing behind her father, smiled secretly at me.

I smiled at her in return, but it was a strange smile, I fear, for with the knowledge of that additional mystery within me--the mystery of the woman lying unconscious or perhaps dead, up in the wood--held me stupefied.
I had suspected Leithcourt because of his constant trysts at that spot, but I had at least proved that my suspicions were entirely without foundation.

He could not have got home and dressed in the time, for I had taken the nearest route to the castle while the fugitive would be compelled to make a wide detour.
I only remained a few minutes, then went forth into the darkness again, utterly undecided how to act.

My first impulse was to return to the woman's aid, for she might not be dead after all.
And yet when I recollected that hoarse cry that rang out in the darkness, I knew too well that she had been struck fatally.

It was this latter conviction that prevented me from turning back to the wood.