“So she was, my lord,” said Mr. Daunt.
“And did you take particular notice of the testatrix?” said counsel, addressing the witness.
“Well, not particular. I mean, I did not notice very much of her; but I noticed her hand and her finger when she was making her mark.”
“Oh, you did! Tell the Court and the jury what you noticed,” said Mr. Daunt, catching the edges of his gown and pulling them forward.
“I noticed that her hands were very coarse for a lady, I thought, my lord,” said the witness looking up towards the judge. “And I saw that her forefinger had a deep mark along it, as if it had been badly cut or crushed some time or other.”
“Come,” said Mr. Daunt, leaning forward and looking the clerk full in the face. “Do you think you would know the testatrix if you saw her again?”
A buzz of excitement ran through the crowd.
“If I saw her again? Sure she’s dead.”
“Sure she’s dead,” said Mr. Daunt, echoing him; “but if she wasn’t, do you think you could recognise her?”
“I think I might.”