“Have you ever seen him before?”
“No,” she answered, quietly.
“Miss Derwent, pardon my questioning you still further, but I have been told that a gentleman closely resembling the deceased called on you on Tuesday evening. Now, do you see any resemblance between the two?”
A burning blush overspread the girl’s face, and then she grew so ghastly pale that I moved to her side, fearing she would fall.
“Mr. Coroner, can’t the rest of the questions you have to ask Miss Derwent be put to her somewhere else?” I suggested. “The atmosphere here is intolerable.”
“Certainly,” he replied, with unexpected mildness.
I drew the young lady’s unresisting hand through my arm and supported her into the next room. She was trembling so violently that she would have fallen if I had not done so, and I could see that it was only by the greatest self-control that she kept any semblance of composure.
“Now,” resumed the Coroner, “if you feel well enough, will you kindly answer my last question?”
“The gentleman who called on me on Tuesday does not resemble the dead man, except in so far that they both have black, pointed beards.”