As Wood obeyed, his foot slipped; and, casting his eyes upon the floor, he perceived it splashed in several places with blood. The kissing of the book struck her as particularly odd, and then the policemen gave their evidence in staccato jerks and stereotyped phrases. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. “I do not think that he is quite dead.
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