She seemed to become suddenly excited. She half rose in her chair and looked down the line of benches to where her husband sat, the scar showing plainly in the rather brilliant light, his eyes narrowed until they were nearly closed. Again the question, and again a moment of nervousness before she answered:
"No—no—it would n't be in my book. I looked."
"But you remember?"
"Just like as if it was yesterday."
"And what you saw—did it give you any idea—"
"I know what I saw."
"And did it lead to any conclusion?"
"Yes."
"What, may I ask?"
"That somebody had been murdered!"