“I'm—I'm quite sure. Where did you find it?”
“What size gloves do you wear, Miss Lloyd?”
“Number six.” She said this mechanically, as if thinking of something else, and her face was white.
“These are number six,” said the coroner, as he took a pair of gloves from the bag. “Think again, Miss Lloyd. Do you not own a gold-chain bag, such as this?”
“I have one something like that—or, rather, I did have one.”
“Ah! And what did you do with it?”
“I gave it to my maid, Elsa, some days ago.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because I was tired of it, and as it was a trifle worn, I had ceased to care to carry it.”
“Is it not a somewhat expensive trinket to turn over to your maid?”