It was the hand I had put under her waist when I lifted her.' 'Do you mean to say you think she was wounded ?' Margaret asked, opening her eyes wide.
'There was blood on the inside of my hand,' Griggs answered, 'and I had no scratch to account for it.

I know quite well that it was on the hand that I put under her waist--a little above the waist, just in the middle of her back.' 'But it would have been seen afterwards.' 'On the dark red silk she wore?
Not if there was very little of it.
The doctor never thought of looking for such a wound.

Why should he?
He had not the slightest reason for suspecting that the poor girl had been murdered.' 'Murdered ?' Margaret looked hard at Griggs, and then she suddenly shuddered from head to foot.

She had never before had such a sensation; it was like a shock from an electric current at the instant when the contact is made, not strong enough to hurt, but yet very disagreeable.

She felt it at the moment when her mind connected what Griggs was saying with the dying girl's last words, 'he did it'; and with little Ida's look of horror when she had watched Mr.Van Torp's lips while he was talking to himself on the boat-deck of the _Leofric_; and again, with the physical fear of the man that always came over her when she had been near him for a little while.