“It is. And its presence there, on the tray, proves that she let the tray fall in her surprise at seeing Aunt Lucy, and in her trembling excitement loosened and dropped this hairpin. Doubtless, she flung her hand up to her head—a not unusual gesture of hers—and so dislodged it.”
Brunt looked closely at the speaker. “You’ve got it all fixed up, haven’t you, Miss Stuart?”
Pauline flushed slightly. “I didn’t ‘fix it up,’ as you call it, but I did gather, from what I saw, that the truth must be as I have stated; and in my anxiety to learn anything possible as to the mystery of this crime, I secured what may or may not be a bit of evidence. As Mr. Haviland has said, if Estelle is entirely innocent of any complicity in the matter, these things can’t hurt her. But it would scarcely be possible for her to have been so careless as to drop a hairpin on the tray without noticing it, if she were not startled and flurried by something that took her mind and eyes entirely away from her duties.”
“I think you are purposely making a great deal out of nothing,” remarked Anita; “it seems unfair, to say the least, to condemn the poor girl on such trifling evidence.”
The talk was interrupted by the entrance of the Coroner and the two doctors.
“It is found,” said Coroner Scofield, “that the cause of Miss Carrington’s death was not the blow on the head.”
The Inspector looked his amazement, and the others sat with receptively blank countenances waiting further disclosures.
“No,” went on Scofield, “we find in the stomach unmistakable traces of poison.”
“Poison!” It was Anita’s frightened whisper; “who would poison her?”
“What kind of poison?” asked Brunt.