“Was Mr. Braye present at the time of the—tragedy?”
“No;” Landon stopped to think. “He wasn’t. Where was he?”
“He was with me,” said Milly. “We went in his car to East Dryden. We went to the markets and did some other shopping at the stores.”
“And when you returned it was—all over?” Doctor Crawford looked gravely at her.
“Yes,” said Milly, “we were both away, and oh, I am so glad! I couldn’t have stood it!”
She broke down and sobbed in her husband’s arms, but Crawford went on asking questions.
“The autopsy will show,” he said, “but I will ask if any of you can show cause to suspect that a poison of any sort could have been administered to the victims of this disaster.”
“Not possibly,” said Professor Hardwick. “We were at tea, and had all been served from the same teapot and from the same plates of cakes. I can affirm this, for I’ve thought over every moment of the occasion. Mr. Bruce had taken part of his tea, and had eaten part of his cake,——”
“Are you sure of this?” the coroner interrupted.
“I am sure that he sat next to me, that he was talking to me, and that he received his tea at the same time I did. We sat stirring our cups, and nibbling our cake as we discussed a matter in which we were both interested. Less than a half minute before that man died, he was as well as he had ever been. The scene is perfectly before my eyes. He held his cup and saucer in one hand, his spoon in the other,—when I saw his eyes open queerly, his face change to a clayey gray, and his fingers relaxed, letting his cup fall to the floor. I set down my cup quickly and sprang toward him, but in an instant it was all over.”