"Because my bedroom clock struck the hour as I got back. I heard somebody leave the corner house. I looked out of the window and saw a motor car that appeared to be draped in black. As a woman from the house got on to it she seemed to push some of the drapery aside, for I saw the gleam of the rail. She was a fair woman with a mantilla over her head. The car went off without the faintest noise, and that is all I know."
"Are you a friend of the prison----, I mean of Dr. Bruce?" asked the inquisitive one.
Hetty was bound to admit that she was more than that. The interrogative juryman sniffed and suggested that Dr. Bruce might have been in the house then.
"Impossible," Bruce cried. "At a quarter to five I was at home. The hall porter and two of the maids were down and will testify to the fact."
A ripple of excitement followed. A reporter rose and held up his hand.
"I desire to be sworn, sir," he said. "It so happens that I can throw a little light on this matter. I did not leave the office of my paper till four in the morning of the day to which this young lady alludes. The clock on Gregory's store struck five as I reached Garrett Street, which, as you know, runs into Raven Street. A few seconds later a fast motor passed me without the slightest noise."
"Perhaps you had better describe this motor," said the coroner.
"It was draped or some way disguised in black. A woman sat by the driver, with a cloud of lace over her head. I could just catch a glimpse of a brass rail where the drapery was disturbed."
Prout snapped his note-book together and put it in his pocket.
"After that," he muttered, "I give it up; it's beyond me."