Edgar Wallace

“ Meister's nerveless fingers slipped and the mouth of the trap crashed back in its place. The girl's scream brought Wembury at a rush, and at the sight of the huddled figure on the floor he gave a gasp of dismay. ”

“ The man almost screamed the question, pointing with a shaking finger at Mary Lenley. "She heard it!"
Alan looked at her and she nodded.
"If I was dreaming, it's the kind of dream I never want again. Nobody there!"
He stepped closer to Wembury and thrust his large face up to the detective's.
"There's a footprint in the dust outside the door. I saw it."
Wembury had seen it too, but said nothing.
"There was no place for a man to conceal himself—not a normal-sized man. I'll have a look in the garden," he said. "Do you still use that back door of yours, by the way? ”

“ What'll I do when I see him?" he asked dryly.
"It certainly is not an offence to look like a stage villain," admitted Alan, "and unfortunately people do not carry their character in their faces."
"Thank God!" said Atkins piously, for nature had not favoured him in the matter of looks. "The nicest looker I've ever seen murdered his wife and three children and buried them in cement under the kitchen floor. And if you ever saw old Lord Leverthil in the dock, you'd give him ten years on his face alone—and he's done more for infant welfare than any man in the country! ”