“It was nothing.”
“Then you should not object to telling of it.”
“Well,” I began reluctantly, “it was only that, as we were standing there, all at once there was a tiny bit of red that came from the hypodermic wound. You know the little pin prick where the needle has been inserted. It was——” I coughed to hide the tremble in my voice. “It was—very unusual.”
I could see that Lance O’Leary, for all his professional frigidity, was somewhat shaken, for his hands gripped the pencil tightly and he drew a deliberate breath.
“That old superstition means nothing,” he said. “But it must have been—grisly. And there were only you and Miss Day and Dr. Hajek and Dr. Balman in the room?”
My throat being dry I made an assenting gesture.
“And—Dr. Letheny in the closet,” added O’Leary softly.
At that I must have gone quite pale, for Lance O’Leary, eyeing me with that oddly lucid gaze, spoke abruptly, as if to distract my thoughts.
“I believe you are a woman of some discretion.”
“I ought to be! At my age.”