“And do you see any blood on the right hand of Miss Van Norman?”
Startled at the implication, Doctor Leonard bent to examine the cold white hand. Not a trace of blood was on it. Instinctively he looked at the girl’s left hand, only to find that also immaculately white.
Doctor Leonard stood upright and pulled himself together.
“I was wrong, Doctor Hills,” he said, with a nod which in him betokened an unspoken apology. “It is a case for the coroner.”
VI
FESSENDEN COMES
It was about nine o’clock the next morning when Rob Fessenden rang the bell of the Van Norman house. Having heard nothing of the events of the night, he had called to offer any assistance he might give before the ceremony.
The trailing garland of white flowers with fluttering streamers of white ribbon that hung beside the portal struck a chill to his heart.
“What can have happened?” he thought blankly, and confused ideas of motor accidents were thronging his mind as the door was opened for him. The demeanor of the footman at once told him that he was in a house of mourning. Shown into the drawing-room, he was met by Cicely Dupuy.
“Mr. Fessenden!” she exclaimed as she greeted him. “Then you have not heard?”