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To reach the police office he had to go straight forward and take

the second turning to the left. It was only a few paces away. But

at the first turning he stopped and, after a minute's thought,

turned into a side street and went two streets out of his way,

possibly without any object, or possibly to delay a minute and

gain time. He walked, looking at the ground; suddenly someone

seemed to whisper in his ear; he lifted his head and saw that he

was standing at the very gate of the house. He had not passed it,

he had not been near it since that evening. An overwhelming,

unaccountable prompting drew him on. He went into the house,

passed through the gateway, then into the first entrance on the

right, and began mounting the familiar staircase to the fourth

storey. The narrow, steep staircase was very dark. He stopped at

each landing and looked round him with curiosity; on the first

landing the framework of the window had been taken out. "That

wasn't so then," he thought.