¡¡Groping in intellectual darkness for a clew to his maze of doubt, his gaze, directed mechanically downward in the way of one who ponders momentous matters, fell upon something which, there, in the light of day and in the presence of living companions, affected him with terror. In the dust of years that lay thick upon the floorâ€”leading from the door by which they had entered, straight across the room to within a yard of Manton's crouching corpseâ€”were three parallel lines of footprintsâ€”light but definite impressions of bare feet, the outer ones those of small children, the inner a woman's. From the point at which they ended they did not return; they pointed all one way. Brewer, who had observed them at the same moment, was leaning forward in an attitude of rapt attention, horribly pale.
"She is up above," said Saunders; "I can hear her walking about the room."