...
"Go over to the window," said Godfrey, peremptorily, "and get some
fresh air."
Mechanically I obeyed, and stood clinging to the window-sill, gazing
down at the busy street, where the tide of humanity was flowing up
and down, all unconscious of the tragedy which had been enacted so
close at hand. And, at last, the calmness of all these people, the
sight of the world going quietly on as usual, restored me a portion
of my self-control. But even yet I did not understand.
"Was it Armand," I asked, turning back into the room, "who lay there
in the corner?"
"Certainly it was," Godfrey answered. "Who else could it be?"
"Godfrey!" I cried, remembering suddenly. "Did you see his eyes as he
lay there watching the man at the cabinet?"
"Yes; I saw them."
"They were the same eyes...."
"The same eyes."
"And the laugh--did you hear that laugh?"
"Certainly I heard it."
"I heard it once before," I said, "and you thought it was a case of
nerves!"
I fell silent a moment, shivering a little at the remembrance.
"But why did Armand lie there so quietly?" I asked, at last. "Was he
injured?"
Godfrey made a little gesture toward the corner.
"Go see for yourself," he said.
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