As Mrs. Atkins caught sight of the dead man a great shudder shook her whole body, and I felt the hand on my arm grow suddenly rigid. She neither screamed nor fainted, but stood strangely still, as if turned to stone, her eyes riveted on the corpse in a horrified stare.
“Mrs. Atkins?” inquired the Coroner.
She seemed incapable of answering him.
“Mrs. Atkins,” he repeated, a little louder, “do you recognise the deceased?”
This time she moved slightly and tried to moisten her grey lips. At last, with a visible effort, she slowly raised her eyes and glanced about her with fear.
“No, no,” she murmured, in a hollow voice.
“Mrs. Atkins, I must request you to look at the dead man again,” the detective said, fixing his eyes on her. “One of the elevator boys has identified the body as that of a gentleman who called on you on Tuesday evening.”
She raised her arm as if to ward off a blow, and moved slightly away from me.
“I don’t know the man,” she said.