The widow was a most provoking witness. She gave an impression of holding something back, yet her face wore an ingenuous expression and she pouted a little, as if unfairly addressed.
“You were at home all day yesterday?” the coroner went on.
“Yes, I expected Mr. Trowbridge, so of course I did not go out.”
“Why, Eleanor,” exclaimed Avice, impulsively, “you went out for an hour soon after luncheon. Don’t you know, I gave you a letter to post?”
“Oh, yes, I forgot that,” and Mrs. Black looked a trifle confused. “I was sure Mr. Trowbridge wouldn’t get here before three, so I ran out for a few moments.”
“Where did you go?”
“Oh, nowhere in particular. I only went to get a little air. Just walking around the adjacent blocks.” She spoke lightly, but her heightened color and quickened breathing betokened an embarrassment which she strove not to show, and, too, she cast a glance at Avice that was anything but friendly.
The coroner seemed unable to think of anything else to ask the witness. He looked at her thoughtfully, and she returned his glance coolly, but he questioned her no further just then.
The butler came next, and his testimony was garbled and incoherent. His emotion frequently overcame him, and he was unable to speak.
At last Judge Hoyt spoke rather sharply to him.