"That all?" he whispered.
I nodded. "Let the axe fall; I 'm curious to see what effect it will have."
Everybody's attention was abruptly diverted by Genevieve Cooper. Without a word to any one, she rose precipitately, glided noiselessly across the room to the alcove, and disappeared behind the curtains. Blank bewilderment brought me to my feet. What could have impelled her to this extraordinary move at such a critical stage? I started to follow her, but at that very instant the foreman started to announce the verdict.
Silence fell instantly. Maillot sat plucking aimlessly at the margin of a newspaper, the tiny fragments floating unheeded to the floor; while Miss Fluette, strikingly handsome with her transparent complexion, her red-brown hair, and clear hazel eyes, sat imperiously beside him, alone in her assurance as to the outcome.
The young man seemed to have forgotten her presence, so deep was his abstraction. In a little while he pushed the paper to one side, and began feeling idly in a pocket of his vest. His mood was distrait, and in a moment he produced something that glittered; something that made me start and rivet my attention upon him.
The something was a broad gold ring. He toyed with it for a moment, apparently wholly absorbed. Then he slipped it upon the middle finger of his right hand!
The ring seemed to fit perfectly. He turned the hand over and back a number of times, inspecting the ornament from different angles of vision. After which, seemingly satisfied with his critical survey, he removed it from the finger and returned it to his pocket.
I studied the young man in perplexity. Here I had two rings on two different right hands: what was I to conclude from—
But events were moving swiftly, almost to the verge of confusion.
"We, the jury," read the foreman, with the tremulous, irresolute air of a man unaccustomed to forensic exercises, "find that Felix Page came to his death from a blow on the head, administered with some blunt instrument in the hands of—"