“Only moderately so,” returned Pauline. “It is a Syrian scarf and was sent to her by her nephew who lives in Egypt. It is not new, he sent several to us about a year ago.”
She took the long, heavy, white and silver drapery, and laid it in a nearby wardrobe. Then the Coroner unfastened the large pearls from their place as eardrops, and taking up one lifeless hand removed its rings. All these he handed to Pauline without a word.
“What is this?” he exclaimed suddenly; and opening the curled-up fingers of the other hand he drew forth a crumpled gray object. It was a glove, of soft suéde, and so tightly had it been held that it was deeply creased.
“A man’s glove!” said the Coroner, smoothing it out. “Will the wonders of this case never cease?”
He scrutinized it, but remarking only that it was of medium size and superior quality, he laid it carefully aside for the time.
From the same arm he removed the scarab bracelet, also handing that to Pauline.
“The lady was fond of Oriental jewelry,” he observed.
“Yes,” returned Haviland, before Pauline could speak. “Her nephew sent or brought home much of it. But, as we informed you, Miss Carrington was also wearing pearls and diamonds of enormous value, compared to which these trinkets are as nothing.”
“But scarabs, I am told, are of great price.”
“Some are,” returned Haviland. “That bracelet, however, is not genuine, nor of great value.”