Page:The Black Camel (IA blackcamel0000earl).djvu/84

“No, I didn’t. This room was empty when I came through it. I crossed the lanai and stepped out on the lawn———”

“At a little time past eight?”

“Yes—it must have been three or four minutes past the hour. As I ran over the lawn, I saw a man come hurriedly away from the pavilion———”

“You saw a man leaving the pavilion? Who was he?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t see his face. I thought he was one of the guests, and I shouted hello. But he didn’t answer.”

“You are able to describe him?” Chan asked.

“Not his face—that was in shadow, as I told you. But he was wearing a coat—an overcoat—I thought it odd on a night like this. The coat was open, and a streak of light from the kitchen window fell on his shirt-front. He was dressed in evening clothes, you see, and across his white shirt———” Suddenly she turned pale and sat down weakly in the nearest chair. “Oh, my God,” she cried, “I never thought of it before.”

“You never thought of what before?” Charlie prompted.

“That stain on his shirt—that long, narrow, bright red stain,” she gasped, “It—it must have been blood.”