"But the skirt and the jacket were first removed," she went on breathlessly. "Isn't it obvious? Otherwise there would have been no stain of dirt upon the leg. There is no mark of dirt upon them."
"Quick, Madame. The jacket——"
And with his own hands the Judge helped her remove the Spanish jacket, taking from his pocket a small magnifying glass with which he examined the figure intently.
"By the armpits, Monsieur Simon. It is there the hands would have caught."
Simon obeyed while Moira lifted the arms.
"There's something," he muttered softly.
"A stain," broke in Moira quickly. "I can see it with the naked eye."
It was a faint smudge, of a brownish color like rust.
"The print of a finger?" she mumbled.
"It shall be analyzed. It looks like——"