“Miss Cumberland, I have but a few more questions to ask. Will you look at this portion of a broken bottle?”
“I see it, sir.”
“Will you take it in your hand and examine it carefully?”
She reached out her hand; it was trembling visibly and her face expressed a deep distress, but she took the piece of broken bottle and looked at it before passing it back.
“Miss Cumberland, did you ever see that bit of broken glass before?”
She shook her head. Then she cast a quick look at her brother, and seemed to gain an instantaneous courage.
“No,” said she. “I may have seen a whole bottle like that, at some time in the club-house, but I have no memory of this broken end—none at all.”
“I am obliged to you, Miss Cumberland. I will trouble you no more to-day.”
Then he threw up his head and smiled a slow, sarcastic smile at Mr. Moffat.