I saw a hand which was a claw, a strong, shriveled thing with long, dirty nails and a vulturous suggestion.

It was not a pleasant sight.

On the third finger of the left hand, though, was a slight gleam amid the carnivorous dullness.

There was a slender band of gold there, a ring worn down to narrowness and thinness.

I turned to Harlson, but he spoke first: "Do you see that old wedding ring ?" "Yes." "It's queer.