, do. Yes." He sat down and drew the telephone towards him. "You must
make allowances for me, Mr. Gillingham. You see, I've known Mark for a
very long time. But, of course, you're quite right, and I'm merely being
stupid." He took off the receiver.

Let us suppose that, for the purpose of making a first acquaintance with
this "office," we are coming into it from the hall, through the door
which is now locked, but which, for our special convenience, has been
magically unlocked for us. As we stand just inside the door, the length
of the room runs right and left; or, more accurately, to the right only,
for the left-hand wall is almost within our reach. Immediately opposite
to us, across the breadth of the room (some fifteen feet), is that other
door, by which Cayley went out and returned a few minutes ago. In the
right-hand wall, thirty feet away from us, are the French windows.
Crossing the room and going out by the opposite door, we come into a
passage, from which two rooms lead. The one on the right, into which
Cayley went, is less than half the length of the office, a small, square
room, which has evidently been used some time or other as a bedroom. The
bed is no longer there, but there is a basin, with hot and cold taps, in
a corner; chairs; a cupboard or two, and a chest of drawers. The window
faces the same way as the French windows in the next room; but anybody
looking out of the bedroom window has his view on the immediate right
shut off by the outer wall of the office, which projects, by reason of
its greater length, fifteen feet further into the lawn.

The room on the other side of the bedroom is a bathroom. The three rooms
together, in fact, form a sort of private suite; used, perhaps, during
the occupation of the previous owner, by some invalid, who could not
manage the stairs, but allowed by Mark to fall into disuse, save for the
living-room. At any rate, he never slept downstairs.

Antony glanced at the bathroom, and then wandered into the bedroom, the
room into which Cayley had been. The window was open, and he looked out
at the well-kept grass beneath him, and the peaceful stretch of park
beyond; and he felt very sorry for the owner of it all, who was now
mixed up in so grim a business.

"Cayley thinks he did it," said Antony to himself. "That's obvious. It
explains why he wasted so much time banging on the door. Why should
he try to break a lock when it's so much easier to break a window?
Of course he