“I don’t account for it. To me it is exceedingly mysterious.”
“And the paper snake round her neck?”
“I have no idea by whom such a thing could have been brought to my aunt. But I am positive she never put it on herself. Nor can I think she would allow it to come near her if she were alive,—or conscious,—or, had power to scream for help. Any one knowing my aunt’s fear and horror of anything reptilian will agree to this.”
“It seems evident,” said the Coroner, thoughtfully, “that some intruder entered Miss Carrington’s room, at or near one o’clock. That this intruder in some manner induced Miss Carrington to swallow the poison, whether conscious of her act or not. That the intruder subsequently, and for some reason, placed the snake round the neck of the victim, and, later still, brutally gave her a stunning blow with the black-jack which was found, and thereby fractured her skull. Granting these assumptions, can you, Miss Stuart, give us any information that would lead to discovery of the hand that wrought this havoc?”
“Not any,” and Pauline raised her great eyes a moment to Scofield’s face and slowly dropped them again.
“Then can you not express an opinion or suggest a theory that might account for such strange happenings, at least, in part?”
“No,” said Pauline, slowly; “I have no idea, nor can I imagine why my aunt should be so elaborately arrayed and seated in an easy chair in front of her mirror. It is contrary to all her customs or habits.”
“Could she have been killed first and could the jewels and adornments have been added afterward?” asked the Coroner of the doctors.
“No,” replied Dr. Moore; “the whole condition of the body and clothing make such a theory practically impossible.”
“Quite impossible,” added Dr. Stanton; “and, too, what would be the sense of such a proceeding?”