"Here."

I stooped and examined the carpet. It was a dark Oriental, with
much red in it. I touched the place, and then ran my folded
handkerchief over it. It came up stained with blood.

"There would be no object in using cold water there, so as not to
set the stain," Sperry said thoughtfully. "Whether he fell there
or not, that is where she allowed him to be found."

"You don't think he fell there?"

"She dragged him, didn't she?" he demanded. Then the strangeness
of what he was saying struck him, and he smiled foolishly. "What
I mean is, the medium said she did. I don't suppose any jury would
pass us tonight as entirely sane, Horace," he said.

He walked across to the bathroom and surveyed it from the doorway.
I followed him. It was as orderly as the other room. On a glass
shelf over the wash-stand were his razors, a safety and, beside it,
in a black case, an assortment of the long-bladed variety, one for
each day of the week, and so marked.

Sperry stood thoughtfully in the doorway.

"The servants are out," he said. "According to Elinor's statement
he was dressing when he did it. And yet some one has had a wild
impulse for tidiness here, since it happened. Not a towel out of
place!"