Suddenly she felt her wrist grasped by a strong hand. Wood, at the top of her voice. He had been ill; no matter about that: he recollected every thought that had led up to it and every act that had consummated the deed. Following him, and acting out of instinct rather than intent, Melusine took a firm grasp of the gilt frame with both hands, lifted it high in the air and, with a shrieking curse, brought it down hard. Last night there had been no time. She visualized him as in a policeman’s uniform and quite impassive. "You have forgotten your knife, Mr.
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