The housekeeper and his wife broke out with abuse, to which Arthur listened in silence.  Susie and Dr Porhoet stood by anxiously.  They did not know what to do.  Suddenly a voice at their elbows made them start, and the two servants were immediately silent.

‘What can I do for you?’

Oliver Haddo was standing motionless behind them.  It startled Susie that he should have come upon them so suddenly, without a sound.  Dr Porhoet, who had not seen him for some time, was astounded at the change which had taken place in him.  The corpulence which had been his before was become now a positive disease.  He was enormous.  His chin was a mass of heavy folds distended with fat, and his cheeks were puffed up so that his eyes were preternaturally small.  He peered at you from between the swollen lids.  All his features had sunk into that hideous obesity.  His ears were horribly bloated, and the lobes were large and swelled.  He had apparently a difficulty in breathing, for his large mouth, with its scarlet, shining lips, was constantly open.  He had grown much balder and now there was only a crescent of long hair stretching across the back of his head from ear to ear.  There was something terrible about that great shining scalp.  His paunch was huge; he was a very tall man and held himself erect, so that it protruded like a vast barrel.  His hands were infinitely repulsive; they were red and soft and moist.  He was sweating freely, and beads of perspiration stood on his forehead and on his shaven lip.

For a moment they all looked at one another in silence.  Then Haddo turned to his servants.

‘Go,’ he said.

As though frightened out of their wits, they made for the door and with a bustling hurry flung themselves out.  A torpid smile crossed his face as he watched them go.  Then he moved a step nearer his visitors.  His manner had still the insolent urbanity which was customary to him.

‘And now, my friends, will you tell me how I can be of service to you?’

‘I have come about Margaret’s death,’ said Arthur.

Haddo, as was his habit, did not immediately answer.  He looked slowly from Arthur to Dr Porhoet, and from Dr Porhoet to Susie.  His eyes rested on her hat, and she felt uncomfortably that he was inventing some gibe about it.

‘I should have thought this hardly the moment to intrude upon my sorrow,’ he said at last.  ’If you have condolences to offer, I venture to suggest that you might conveniently send them by means of the penny post.’

Arthur frowned.

‘Why did you not let me know that she was ill?’ he asked.

’Strange as it may seem to you, my worthy friend, it never occurred to me that my wife’s health could be any business of yours.’

A faint smile flickered once more on Haddo’s lips, but his eyes had still the peculiar hardness which was so uncanny.  Arthur looked at him steadily.

‘I have every reason to believe that you killed her,’ he said.