His faith in her was too complete.
"Yes--of course--" he said, with a look of gratitude.

Then his mind reverted to the ever-present problem before them.

"But who in God's name killed him ?" he muttered, kneeling before the fire.
"You don't think it was--Billy ?" Dale saw Billy's face before her for a moment, calm, impassive.

But he was an Oriental--an alien--his face might be just as calm, just as impassive while his hands were still red with blood.

She shuddered at the thought.
Bailey considered the matter.
"More likely the man Lizzie saw going upstairs," he said finally.
"But--I've been all over the upper floors." "And--nothing ?" breathed Dale.
"Nothing." Bailey's voice had an accent of dour finality.