“Will you tell us of the last time you saw him alive?”
Miss Lloyd hesitated. She showed no embarrassment, no trepidation; she merely seemed to be thinking.
Her gaze slowly wandered over the faces of the servants, Mrs. Pierce, Mr. Philip Crawford, the jurors, and, lastly, dwelt for a moment on the now anxious, worried countenance of Gregory Hall.
Then she said slowly, but in an even, unemotional voice: “It was last night at dinner. After dinner was over, my uncle went out, and before he returned I had gone to my room.”
“Was there anything unusual about his appearance or demeanor at dinner-time?”
“No; I noticed nothing of the sort.”
“Was he troubled or annoyed about any matter, that you know of?”
“He was annoyed about one matter that has been annoying him for some time: that is, my engagement to Mr. Hall.”
Apparently this was the answer the coroner had expected, for he nodded his head in a satisfied way.
The jurors, too, exchanged intelligent glances, and I realized that the acquaintances of the Crawfords were well informed as to Miss Lloyd's romance.