If on the tips of that boa of yours you find the faintest evidence of its having been dipped in blood, I shall know that the streaks found on the top of the table I speak of were evidences of your presence there.

But if your boa is clean, or was not long enough to touch that dying man as you leaned over him, then we have proof that the young lady with the dove-colored plumes fingered that table also, instead of falling at once into the condition in which you saw her carried out." "I fear that it is my boa which will tell the tale: another proof of the fallibility of man, or, rather, woman.

In secret search for clews I left behind me traces of my own presence.

I really feel mortified, sir, and you have quite the advantage of me." And with this show of humility, which may not have been entirely sincere, this estimable lady took her departure.
Did Mr.Gryce suffer from any qualms of conscience at having elicited so much and imparted so little?
I doubt it.

Mr.Gryce's conscience was quite seared in certain places..