The simple modern furniture appeared
still more plain and common-place by contrast with the huge spaces
of the building.
In one of the rooms a gendarme was standing beside the window. The
man saluted the physician, then shrugged his shoulders with an
expression of hopelessness. The doctor returned a silent greeting
and passed through into the next apartment. The old man was paler
than usual and his face bore an expression of pain and surprise,
the same expression that showed in the faces of those gathered
downstairs. The room he now entered was large like the others, the
walls handsomely decorated, and every corner of it was flooded with
sunshine. There were two men in this room, the village magistrate
and the notary. Their expression, as they held out their hands
to the doctor, showed that his coming brought great relief. And
there was something else in the room, something that drew the eyes
of all three of the men immediately after their silent greeting.
This was a great pool of blood which lay as a hideous stain on the
otherwise clean yellow-painted floor. The blood must have flowed
from a dreadful wound, from a severed artery even, the doctor
thought, there was such a quantity of it.
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