“Mrs. Rheinholdt’s jewels!” Lenora cried.  “What next?  Oh! my God, what next?”

Their eyes ached with the strain but there was not one of them who could even glance away from the mirror.  It was Quest’s study which slowly appeared then.  The Salvation Army girl was there, talking to the Professor.  They saw him leave her, they saw him look back from the door, a strange, evil glance.  Then the secretary entered and spoke to her.  Once more the door opened.  The hands were there, stretching and reaching, a paper-weight gripped in the right-hand fingers.  They saw it raised above the secretary’s head, they saw the other hand take the girl by the throat and push her towards the table.  A wild scream broke from Lenora’s lips.  Quest wavered for a moment.  The picture faded out.

“Oh, stop it!” Lenora begged.  “Haven’t we seen enough?  We know the truth now.  Stop!”

The criminologist made no reply.  His eyes were still fixed upon the Professor, who showed some signs of returning consciousness.  He was gripping at his collar.  He seemed to have difficulty with his breathing.  Quest suddenly braced himself.  He pushed Lenora back.

“One more,” he muttered.  “There’s something growing in his mind.  I can feel it.  Wait!”

Again they all turned towards the mirror.  They saw the hallway of Ashleigh House, the pictures upon the walls, they could almost feel the quiet silence of night.  They saw the Professor come stealing down the stairs.  He was wearing the black velvet suit with the cowl in his hand.  They watched him pause before a certain door, draw on the cowl and disappear.  Through the opening they could see Lord Ashleigh asleep in bed, the moonlight streaming through the open window across the counterpane.  They saw the Professor turn with a strange, horrible look in his face and close the door.  Lenora burst into sobs.

“No more!” she begged.  “No more, please!”

Suddenly, without any warning, Laura also began to sob hysterically.  French mopped his forehead with his handkerchief.  His face was unrecognisable.  He had lost all his healthy colour, and his lips were twitching.  Quest himself was as pale as death, and there were black rims under his eyes.

“We’ve had enough,” he admitted, swaying a little on his feet.  “Undo the other band, if you can, Lenora.”

He leaned forward and released their victim.  The whole atmosphere of the place seemed immediately to change.  Lenora drew a long, convulsive breath and sank into a chair.  The Professor sat up, and gazed at them all with the air of a man who had just awakened from a dream.  His features relapsed, his mouth once more resolved itself into pleasant and natural lines.  He smiled at them cordially.

“Have I, by any chance, slept?” he asked.  “Or—­”

He never finished his sentence.  His eyes fell upon the mirror, the metal band lying by his side.  He read the truth in the faces still turned towards him.  He rose to his feet.  There was another and equally sudden change in his demeanour and tone.  He carried himself with the calm dignity of the scientist.