Wood chanced to be murdered by Blueskin, the fellow who just left the room, on the very night of his return, as it has thrown the house into such confusion, and so distracted them, that he has had no time as yet for hostile movements. I found it on the beach, just sitting there nestled inside a piece of driftwood. There was nothing in the pockets of the coat. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. G.
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