“Very often; I was his nurse, you see.”
“There was another bottle of medicine kept there—the one labeled ‘Dangerous’?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you see that bottle when you went for the soothing mixture you speak of?”
“No, sir.” This was very firmly said. “I wasn’t thinking of it, and the bottle I wanted being in front I just pulled it out and never looked at any other.”
“This other bottle—the dangerous one—where was that kept?”
“Way back behind several others. I had put it there when the doctor told us that we were not to give him any more of that especial medicine without his orders.”
“If you went to this cabinet so often you must have a very good idea of just how it looked inside.”
“I have, sir,” her voice falling a trifle—at least, I thought I detected a slight change in it as if the emotion she had so bravely kept under up to this moment was beginning to make itself felt.
“Then tell us if everything looked natural to you when you went to it this time; everything in order,—nothing displaced.”