But when the others had disappeared, he turned quickly and softly, and entered the dressing-room.
With the outer door open an inch, he watched and waited; and in a very few minutes Heyton came out of the sick-room.

He was white as death, and he was shaking in every limb.

The detective waited until he had heard Heyton's slow and heavy steps descend the stairs, then Mr.Jacobs went down, by the back stairs, to his sitting-room.

He dined there, with the Inspector, and entertained--though that is scarcely the word--the amazed and disgusted Mr.Brown by an account of a visit Mr.Jacobs had paid to a big agricultural show in the north.
After dinner, he smoked a cigar with an air of quiet and subdued enjoyment proper to the circumstances; and a little later on, he went for a stroll.

The night was hot, and Heyton had gone on to the terrace; he had had some more brandy, and was trying to smoke; but his throat and lips were too parched to permit of his doing so, and with an oath, he flung the cigar away.