“But she gave a strange little shuddering gasp, as if frightened.”
“Natural excitement at the strange and awful conditions now present.”
“Yes, no doubt.” Doctor Hills spoke a bit impatiently. The phlegmatic attitude of his colleague jarred on his own overwrought nerves, and he rose and walked about the room, now and then stopping to scrutinize anew the victim of the cruel dagger.
At last he stood still, across the table from her, but looking at Doctor Leonard.
“I have no suggestion to make,” he said slowly. “I have no theory to offer, but I am firmly convinced that Madeleine Van Norman did not strike the blow that took away her life. Perhaps this is more a feeling or an intuition than a logical conviction, but——” He hesitated and looked intently at the dead girl, as if trying to force the secret from her.
With a sudden start he took a step forward, and as he spoke his voice rang with excitement.
“Doctor Leonard,” he said, in a quick, concise voice, “will you look carefully at that dagger?”
“Yes,” said the older man, impressed by the other’s sudden intensity; and, stepping forward, he scrutinized the dagger as it lay on the table, without, however, touching it.
“There is blood on the handle,” went on Doctor Hills.
“Yes, several stains, now dried.”