“No, I do not think so.”
“Be careful, Mr. Cavendish. I am referring to a little bottle of Hydro-chloride of Strychnine.”
Lawrence was turning a sickly greenish colour.
“N—o—I am sure I didn’t.”
“Then how do you account for the fact that you left the unmistakable impress of your finger-prints on it?”
The bullying manner was highly efficacious with a nervous disposition.
“I—I suppose I must have taken up the bottle.”
“I suppose so too! Did you abstract any of the contents of the bottle?”
“Certainly not.”
“Then why did you take it up?”