"True. We may consider that matter as settled. Bartow was an innocent witness of this crime, and, having nothing to fear, may be trusted to reproduce in his pantomimic action its exact features."
"Very good. Continue, madam. Nothing but profit is likely to follow an argument presented by Miss Butterworth."
The old detective's tone was serious, his manner perfect; but Miss Butterworth, ever on the look-out for sarcasm from his lips, bridled a little, though in no other way did she show her displeasure.
"Let us, then, recall his precise gestures, remembering that he must have surprised the assailant from the study doorway, and so have seen the assault from over his master's shoulder."
"In other words, directly in front of him. Now what was his first move?"
"His first move, as now seen, is to raise his right arm and stretch it behind him, while he leans forward for the imaginary dagger. What does that mean?"
"I should find it hard to say. But I did not see him do that. When I came upon him, he was thrusting with his left hand across his own body—a vicious thrust and with his left hand. That is a point, Mr. Gryce."
"Yes, especially as the doctors agree that Mr. Adams was killed by a left-handed blow."
"You don't say! Don't you see the difficulty, then?"
"The difficulty, madam?"