‘Now, gentlemen, you must choose a foreman. Only be quick about it. We’re late.’
In point of fact the jury had been waiting for him for more than an hour, but the question of choosing a foreman did not detain them for long, since Mrs Malpas’s enemy, Williams of the Pentre, had already virtually chosen himself.
‘Very good . . . very good!’ said the coroner. ‘Take them to view the body, sergeant.’
They filed out behind the policeman, opening their ranks at the door to admit the doctor from Lesswardine, who apologised for his lateness and shook hands with the coroner.
‘You’ve done the post-mortem?’ said the latter.
‘Yes, that’s what kept me.’
‘And found what you expected?’
‘Yes . . . fractured base. I had no doubt about it.’
‘Cheap two-guineas’ worth. You’d better take your money now to save time. Sign for it here.’
The doctor pocketed the sovereigns and placed the florin aside, according to the unwritten law that obtains in such cases, for the sergeant.