As her fussy little figure came forward, some nudged and some laughed, possibly because her bonnet was not of this year’s style, possibly because her manner was peculiar and as full of oddities as her attire. But they did not laugh long, for the little lady’s look was appealing, if not distressed. The fact that she was generally known to possess one of the largest bank accounts in the District, made any marked show of disrespect toward her a matter of poor judgment, if not of questionable taste.
The box in the coroner’s hand prepared us for what was before us. As he opened it and disclosed again the dainty white bow which, as I have before said, was of rather a fantastic make, the whole roomful of eager spectators craned forward and were startled enough when he asked:
“Did you ever see a bow like this before?”
Her answer came in the faintest of tones.
“Yes, I have one like it; very like it; so like it that yesterday I could not suppress an exclamation on seeing this one.”
“Where did you get the one you have? Who fashioned it, I mean, or tied it for you, if that is what I ought to say?”
“It was tied for me by—Miss Tuttle. She is a friend of mine, or was—and a very good one; and one day while watching me struggling with a piece of ribbon, which I wanted made into a bow, she took it from my hand and tied a knot for which I was very much obliged to her. It was very pretty.”
“And like this?”
“Almost exactly, sir.”
“Have you that knot with you?”