"I acknowledge that I was the person who accompanied her into that empty house; but I do not acknowledge that I killed her. She was alive and well when I left her, difficult as it is for me to prove it. It was the realization of this difficulty which made me perjure myself this morning."
"So," murmured the Coroner, with another glance at Mr. Gryce, "you acknowledge that you perjured yourself. Will the room be quiet!"
But the lull came slowly. The contrast between the appearance of this elegant young man and the significant admissions he had just made (admissions which to three quarters of the persons there meant more, much more, than he acknowledged), was certainly such as to provoke interest of the deepest kind. I felt like giving rein to my own feelings, and was not surprised at the patience shown by the Coroner. But order was restored at last, and the inquiry proceeded.
"We are then to consider the testimony given by you this morning as null and void?"
"Yes, so far as it contradicts what I have just stated."
"Ah, then you will no doubt be willing to give us your evidence again?"
"Certainly, if you will be so kind as to question me."
"Very well; where did your wife and yourself first meet after your arrival in New York?"
"In the street near my office. She was coming to see me, but I prevailed upon her to go uptown."
"What time was this?"