“Was the knife left in the body?” she demanded.
“No.”
“Have they found it?”
“No.” Miriam hastened to supplement her second monosyllable with a further statement as she saw another question trembling on Mrs. Nash’s lips. “The weapon has not been found yet.”
“Then how do they know that he was stabbed?” persisted Mrs. Nash.
“By the nature of the wound,” replied Miriam. “Sheriff Trenholm told me just now that the autopsy proved Mr. Abbott died from what is known as a punctured wound.”
“And what is that precisely?”
“Why, the weapon used left a fusiform or spindle-shaped wound,” she added, observing Mrs. Nash’s blank expression. “Now, please lie down again, for that is the last question I am going to answer to-night,” and the gentle firmness of her voice convinced Mrs. Nash that she meant what she said. But before she settled back on the pillows she looked around at her nurse.
“Was my niece talking to Guy Trenholm in the hall before you came in here a second time?” she inquired.
Miriam shook her head in the negative. “Not to my knowledge. I have not seen Miss Carter since dinner.”