There was a pause here longer than those made while the coroner had taken down the depositions, during which he had frowned very severely; and now appeared greatly annoyed at the unbusiness-like sobbing of the poor girl, who sat down again upon a form behind old Matt, who tried to whisper a few words of comfort, as the jurymen mostly seemed very intent upon the paper before them.
Then followed the doctor to tell of his horrible task, and express his opinion respecting the marks of blows upon the face of deceased, such, though, as might have been caused by striking against some part of the bridge in falling; he was of opinion that she must have struck twice, as there was a fracture upon the back of the skull; and she had evidently been dead some days.
“Found dead.”
And then there was a little quiet bustle, and scraping of chairs upon the oilcloth, for the inquest was over; and old Matt and the weeping girl were standing outside by some railings.
“Strange as we should meet again after talking as we did.”
“Yes, yes,” said the girl sadly; “but why didn’t you say you knew her when I spoke to you?”
“Didn’t know her by that name,” said Matt; “and I had only seen her a few times, hardly to speak to. But about that Bible?”
“Well!” said the girl sadly.
“Have you got it now?”
“Yes,” she said; and then she turned, for a hand was laid upon her arm, and one of the jurymen led her on a few steps talking long and earnestly, till after repeating something aloud two or three times he walked away; and Matt and the girl, two of the waifs of London streets, went slowly on, not noticing that they were watched.