But though there was no surprise left, there was a shock of horror as my fingers touched an arm, a throat, an upturned face.

And my fingers were wet, as I knew my boots must be.

And I knew, too, with what they were wet.
I'm ashamed to say that, after the first shock of the discovery, my impulse was to get away, and out of the whole business, in which, for reasons which concerned others even more than myself, it would be unpleasant to be involved, just at this time especially.

I could go downstairs now, past the sleeping concierge, and with luck no one need ever know that I had been in this dark room of death.
But as quickly as the impulse came, it went.

I must stop here and search for the treaty, no matter what happened, until I had found it or made sure it was not to be found; I must not think of escape.