He was compelled to move a few inches more before he could see what she was staring at.

And then his heart stopped dead still.
Huddled down in his chair, with his head flung back so that the terrible ghastliness of his face fronted Kent, was Kedsty.

And Kent, in an instant, knew.

Only a dead man could look like that.
With a cry he entered the room.

Marette did not start, but an answering cry came into her throat as she turned her eyes from Kedsty to him.