As he
finished his demonstration, Sylvester glanced over my shoulder with a
little deprecating smile, as of a man apologising for doing an
unpleasant duty, and I turned to find Swain standing there, his face
lined with perplexity.
"You heard?" I asked.
"Yes; and I believe Mr. Sylvester is right. I can't understand it."
"Well," I said, "suppose we go and have some lunch, and then we can
talk it over," and thanking Sylvester for his courtesy, I led Swain
away. Godfrey fell into step beside us, and for some moments we walked
on in silence.
"There is only one explanation that I can see," said Godfrey, at last.
"Swain, you remember, got to the library about a minute ahead of us,
and when we reached the door he was lifting Miss Vaughan to the couch.
In that minute, he must have touched the dead man."
Swain shook his head doubtfully.
"I don't see why I should have done that," he said.
"It isn't a question of why you did it," Godfrey pointed out. "It's a
question of whether you did it. Go over the scene in your mind,
recalling as many details as you can, and then we'll go over it
together, step by step, after lunch.
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