"You seem to have bruised your arm, Miss Atwood," he said, in a tone
that was intended to express sympathy.

"Oh, did you notice that mark?" she exclaimed. "That has been
puzzling me all day. I awoke suddenly last night with a feeling as
if something had bitten me, but almost immediately went to sleep
again. During the morning I noticed this mark and the swelling. I
can't imagine what could have done it."

"May I look at it?" asked Morgan, as he rose and approached her.
"Perhaps I can suggest something."

She extended her arm, and Morgan, taking her hand, drew the arm
close to him. He carefully studied the spot. The only time he had
ever seen such marks before was on the arms of drug addicts who had
not been particularly careful in the application of the hypodermic
needle.

"So you think it is a bite of some kind?" asked Morgan, looking
keenly at her.

"I can't imagine what else it could be," she replied.

Morgan dropped her hand and looked out of the window for a moment.
There was no doubt in his mind that the mark had been made by a
hypodermic needle, yet it was the only mark of the kind that he
could see on her arm, and therefore would hardly seem to indicate
that the girl was a drug fiend. Moreover, there had bean no
indication of embarrassment or nervousness in her reference to the
mark, as would undoubtedly have been the case had she been addicted