And the Inspector of Police was a powerful man.

He had struggled, still partly dazed by the blow.

But it had taken strength to overcome him even then, to hold his head back, to choke life out of him slowly with the noose of hair.

And Kent, now that the significance of what he saw began to grow upon him more clearly, felt triumphing over all other things in his soul a slow and mighty joy.

It was inconceivable that with the strength of her own hands and body Marette Radisson had killed Kedsty.