“Yes.”
“That was when the ship took that heavy roll to port, was it?”
“Yes.”
“You lost your footing, fell to the deck, and started to slide?”
“I nearly went overboard.”
“How did you check yourself, Miss Fell?”
“I clung to the deck as much as I could and finally came to a stop against the rail.”
“You must have been a pretty busy young woman for a few minutes,” Mason suggested.
“I was,” she assured him.
“And it was when the ship took this roll to port that Mrs. Moar lifted her husband to the rail, shot him and dropped him overboard. Is that right?”