The Milkman Sets Out on His Travels
I SAT down in an armchair and felt very sick. That lasted for maybe five minutes, and was succeeded by a fit of the horrors. The poor, staring, white face on the floor was more than I could bear, and I managed to get a tablecloth and cover it. Then I staggered to a cupboard, found the brandy and swallowed several mouthfuls. I had seen men die violently before; indeed, I had killed a few myself in the Matabele War, but this cold-blooded indoor business was different. Still I managed to pull myself together.
I looked at my watch, and saw that it was half past ten. An idea seized me and I went over the flat with a small-tooth comb. There was nobody there, nor any trace of anybody, but I shuttered and bolted all the windows and put the chain on the door.
By this time my wits were coming back to me and I could think again. It took me about an hour to figure the thing out, and I did not hurry, for, unless the mur-