"None, as far as I've been able to find--only a scratch on the left cheek, evidently inflicted after death." "What's your opinion?" "Suicide. Without a doubt. The hour at which she fell into the water is shown by her watch. It stopped at 2.28." "You have no suspicion of foul play?" "None whatever." I did not reply; but by the compression of my lips I presume he saw that I was dubious. "Ah! I see you are suspicious," he said. "Of course, in tragic circumstances like these the natural conclusion is to doubt. The poor young lady's husband was mysteriously done to death, and I honestly believe that her mind gave way beneath the strain of grief. I've attended her professionally two or three times of late, and noted certain abnormal features in her case that aroused my suspicions that her brain had become unbalanced. I never, however, suspected her of suicidal tendency." "Her mother, Mrs. Mivart, did," I responded. "She told me so only a few days ago." "I know, I know," he answered. "Of course, her mother had more frequent and intimate opportunities for watching her than we had. In any case it is a very dreadful thing for the family." "Very!" I said. "And the mystery surrounding the death of Mr. Courtenay--was it never cleared up? Did the police never discover any clue to the assassin?" "No. Not a single fact regarding it, beyond those related at the inquest, has ever been brought to light." "Extraordinary--very extraordinary!" I went with him into the darkened bedroom wherein lay the body, white and composed, her hair dishevelled about her shoulders, and her white waxen hands crossed about her breast. The expression upon her countenance--that face that looked so charming beneath its veil of widowhood as she had sat in my room at Harley Place--was calm and restful, for indeed, in the graceful curl of the lips, there was a kind of half-smile, as though, poor thing, she had at last found perfect peace. Govitt drew up the blind, allowing the golden sunset to stream into the room, thereby giving me sufficient light to make my examination. The latter occupied some little time, my object being to discover any marks of violence. In persons drowned by force, and especially in women, the doctor expects to find red or livid marks upon the wrists, arms or neck, where the assailant had seized the victim. Of course, these are not always discernible, for it is easier to entice the unfortunate one to the water's edge and give a gentle push than grapple in violence and hurl a person into the stream by main force. The push leaves no trace; therefore, the verdict in hundreds of cases of wilful murder has been "Suicide," or an open one, because the necessary evidence of foul play has been wanting.