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Just for a little while Gilray could see nothing. True, the door was open, and he could hear a chatter of voices, but he had darted into the shadow that lay black on one side of the corridor so that only a glimpse into the bedroom was afforded him. He could make out a portion of the panelled wall with a picture or two upon it, there was the outline of a Chippendale cabinet full of old china. One of the pictures was undoubtedly a Millet, as Gilray's trained eye could see at a glance.
These were unusual objects to encounter in a wayside inn, and at any other time he would have noted them with astonishment.