where a square, practical palm was belied by the slight tapering
of his fingers, the mark of the dreamer. His mouth was
unquestionably sensuous, with the lips full and now and then
revealing out of the studied practiced calm of his face an almost
imperceptible twitching, as though to betray a flash of emotion,
or fear. His chin was feminine, softening his expression and
showing that his feelings would overbalance the cool calculation
denoted by his eyes and the rather heavy level brows above.

As he entered the room, taking the chair indicated by Kennedy, he
seemed perfectly cool and his glance, as it strayed to the
lifeless form of Stella, revealed his iron self-control. The
little signs which I have mentioned, which betrayed the real man
beneath, were only disclosed to me little by little as Kennedy's
questioning progressed.

"Tell me just what happened?" Kennedy began.

"Well--" Manton responded quickly enough, but then he stopped and
proceeded as though he chose each word with care, as if he framed
each sentence so that there would be no misunderstanding, no
chance of wrong impression; all of which pleased Kennedy.

"In the scene we were taking," he went on, "Stella was crouched
down on the floor, bending over her father, who had just been
murdered. She was sobbing. All at once the lights were to spring
up. The young hero was to dash through the set and she was to see
him and scream out in terror. The first part went all right. But
when the lights flashed on, instead of looking up and screaming,
Stella sort of crumpled and collapsed on top of Werner, who was