He walked to the head of the stairs and began
to walk slowly down them. But when he reached the bend where the curtains
and the marble figure were, he turned round and walked up the stairs
again. He walked along as though he was thinking, with his hands behind
his back, and nodding his head a little, and a little cruel, crafty smile
on his face. He passed so close to me that I could have touched him by
putting out my hand, and he went into the library again, leaving the door
open behind him.
"Then suddenly, as I stood there, the thought came over me to go in to
him and tell him what I thought about him. I opened the door softly so as
not to frighten him, and walked out into the passage and into the
library, and as I did so I took my revolver out of my pocket and carried
it in my hand. I wasn't going to shoot him, but I meant to hold him up
while I told him the truth.
"He was standing at the opposite side of the room with his back towards
me and a book in his hand, but a board creaked as I stepped on it, and he
swung round quickly. He was surprised to see me, and no mistake. 'What do
you want here?' he said, in a sharp voice, and I could see by the way he
eyed the revolver that he was frightened.
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