Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. Eventually this comradeship (slightly resented by Rollo) reached a point where he could call out from the study: "Hey, Ruth!—come and tell me what you think of this. Knives were worse, especially when you were stabbed back and left traces of your own blood at the crime scene. ’ Her lips parted, but she did not speak. ’ Kimble frowned direfully, staring at the weapon with its gold hilt and decorative pattern down the blade. Forthwith he presented his card.
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