"Go and tell the captain quietly," I
managed to say. He ran off muttering "My God! My God!" and I'm hanged
if he didn't get hysterical while trying to tell the captain, and start
screaming in the saloon, "Fully dressed! Dead! Fully dressed!" Mrs.
Anthony ran out of course but she didn't get hysterical. Franklin, who
was there too, told me that she hid her face on the captain's breast and
then he went out and left them there. It was days before Mrs. Anthony
was seen on deck. The first time I spoke to her she gave me her hand and
said, "My poor father was quite fond of you, Mr. Powell." She started
wiping her eyes and I fled to the other side of the deck. One would like
to forget all this had ever come near her."
But clearly he could not, because after lighting his pipe he began musing
aloud: "Very strong stuff it must have been. I wonder where he got it.
It could hardly be at a common chemist. Well, he had it from somewhere--a
mere pinch it must have been, no more."
"I have my theory," observed Marlow, "which to a certain extent does away
with the added horror of a coldly premeditated crime.
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