“Now,” said Campbell, “put your hand in her pocket and see what she’s got hold of. Carefully. It may be a knife.”
“Why a knife?” asked Henry.
Campbell didn’t answer him. The nurse approached her patient and over Roberta’s head gingerly slid her hand down Lady Wutherwood’s arm into the pocket. Roberta, looking up, saw the nurse’s face bleach out abruptly to the colour of parchment.
“What’s the matter!” Campbell demanded.
“She’s — she’s — got — both her hands — in her pocket.”
Henry said violently; “Don’t be an ass, Nurse. What d’you mean?”
The nurse backed away from Lady Wutherwood, pointing at the pocket and nodding her head.
“I’ve got her right hand,” said Campbell impatiently. “What are you talking about?”
“There are two hands in her pocket,” said the nurse, and fainted.