the custom to stop shaving in order to commit suicide, but that's
no argument that it can't be done, and as to the key--how do I
know that my own back door key isn't hung outside on a nail
sometimes?"

"We might look again for that hole in the ceiling."

"I won't do it. Miss Jeremy has read of something of that sort, or
heard of it, and stored it in her subconscious mind."

But he glanced up at the ceiling nevertheless, and a moment later
had drawn up a chair and stepped onto it, and I did the same thing.
We presented, I imagine, rather a strange picture, and I know that
the presence of the rigid figure on the couch gave me a sort of
ghoulish feeling.

The house was an old one, and in the center of the high ceiling a
plaster ornament surrounded the chandelier. Our search gradually
centered on this ornament, but the chairs were low and our
long-distance examination revealed nothing. It was at that time,
too, that we heard some one in the lower hall, and we had only a
moment to put our chairs in place before the butler came in. He
showed no surprise, but stood looking at the body on the couch, his
thin face working.

"I met the detectives outside, doctor," he said. "It's a terrible
thing, sir, a terrible thing."

"I'd keep the other servants out of this room, Hawkins."