"So," she continued in the same defiant tone, "it's another poison, this time—this physostigmine?"
"Yes," reiterated Kennedy, quietly. "The Calabar bean. I suppose Doyle described it to you—its devilish uses in the Calabar—the way the natives use it in ordeals—and all that sort of thing?"
"Yes—briefly," she replied, evidently steeling herself into a nonchalance she did not feel.
"Of course, the drug has a certain medical importance, too," continued Craig, as though eager to hammer home the information about it which he wished to have stick in her mind. "It is physostigmine."
Honora was evidently about to ask some question about the drug, perhaps such a question as would have portrayed ignorance, but Kennedy caught her eye and she closed her parted lips. There was no use camouflaging before this man. She knew it—knew the drug, I decided, and knew he knew she knew of it.
"But it wasn't the drug, physostigmine, in this case," went on Kennedy. "It was the Calabar bean itself. I found traces of it in Mr. Wilford's stomach—starch grains from the beans themselves. You know you can recognize various starch grains under the microscope by their size, formation, and so forth. I've clearly demonstrated that."
"You did? Why—I—I—er—thought that was Doctor Leslie's work."
Evidently she did not realize that Kennedy was anything more than a dilettante scientist, dabbling with his psychological tests.
Kennedy was now coming into the open more and more with her and she could not place him. On her part she saw that she must be more and more on guard, yet with fewer weapons on which to rely.
"Oh no," returned Kennedy, easily. "I mix up in all sorts of queer investigations. Toxicology is a hobby with me. Doctor Leslie did indeed confirm my results, working independently."