29/38 Then I made out the form of Charles Turold, standing in his dressing-gown in front of the fireplace, in which a fire of kindling wood was leaping and blazing. I could not make out at first what he was doing. He seemed to be stooping over the fire, moving something about. He was drying his clothes--the suit he had worn that day. They must have been very wet, for the steam was rising from them. |