“It was some time later?”
“Some time—yes. But whether one hour—three hours—five hours, that I cannot say. What I am not sure of like my life, that I do not say.”
“Exactly; very commendable. That’s all, thanks. Cross-examine.”
Orsini wheeled his lustrous orbs in the direction of Mr. Lambert, whose ruddy countenance had assumed an expression of intense inhospitality, though he managed to inject an ominous suavity into his ample voice. “With those vigilant and all-seeing eyes of yours, Mr.—er—Mr. Orsini, were you able to note the garments that Mrs. Bellamy was wearing when she went past you at the gate?”
“Oh, positive. A white dress, all fluffy, and a black cape, quite thin, so that almost you see through it—not quite, maybe, but almost.”
“Any hat?”
“On the head a small black scarf that she have wrap’ also around her neck, twice or mebbe three time. The eyes of Luigi——”
“Exactly. Could you see whether she had on her jewels?”
“Positive. Always like that in the evening, moreover, she wear her jewels.”
“You noticed what they were?”