"Everything is just exactly as it was when George left it.

I couldn't bring myself to touch a thing until after a detective had seen it.

Father said it was silly and sentimental of me to go on sleeping in a little box of a hall bedroom when I could be so much more comfortable if I returned to my own.

But--I couldn't! I felt that I might possibly be unconsciously destroying something in the shape of a clue if I moved a solitary object, and so--Look! there is the drawn blind just as he left it; there his portmanteau on that chair by the bedside, and there--" Her voice sank to a sort of awed whisper, her shaking finger extended in the direction of a blue semi-circle in the middle of the floor.

"There is the belt! He had it round his waist when he crossed this threshold that night.