"And you ran out of the arbour so fast you bumped your head?"
"I suppose that's what happened. It's mighty sore, anyway," and Swain put his hand to it ruefully.
"Mr. Swain," went on the coroner, slowly, "are you prepared to swear that, after you hurt your head, you might not, in a confused and half-dazed condition, have followed your previous impulse to go to the house and see Mr. Vaughan?"
"Yes," answered Swain, emphatically, "I am. Although I was somewhat dazed, I have a distinct recollection of going straight to the wall and climbing back over it."
"You cut your wrist as you were crossing the wall the first time?"
"I'm lawyer enough to know," he said, "that a question like that is not permissible"
"Yes," and Swain held up his hand and showed the strip of plaster across the wound.
"Your right wrist?"