The blade descended, entered flesh, and its point on being withdrawn was followed by blood. The silence of Cabin 10 was no more than negligibly disturbed from Margot’s slow, loose slump to the bedroom floor.
Whether Miss Gilland were dead or not could be determined in the following minute or two, Mrs. Millay decided, better than at the urgent present.
A corner of the sheet of note paper with its pasted-on fragment of medical information covering progeria showed on the floor from beneath Miss Gilland’s left shoulder. Mrs. Millay eased it out, but in spite of her care two fingertips touched blood. She reminded herself to wash it off in the shower room before leaving. Also, of course, the knife.
Mrs. Millay checked the time by her wrist watch, moving nearer to a window, because of the even
