"Of course, of course," the merchant came to his support.
"She could not have taken the money because she would have nowhere to hide it."
"That is what I said," the merchant encouraged him.
"It is more likely that her coming to the hotel for the money suggested to the servants the idea of stealing it; that they stole it and then threw it all upon her."
Peter Gerasimovich spoke provokingly, which communicated itself to the foreman. As a result the latter began to defend his position more persistently. But Peter Gerasimovich spoke so convincingly that he won over the majority, and it was finally decided that she was not guilty of the theft. When, however, they began to discuss the part she had taken in the poisoning, her warm supporter, the merchant, argued that this charge must also be dismissed, as she had no motive for poisoning him. The foreman insisted that she could not be declared innocent on that charge, because she herself confessed to giving him the powder.
"But she thought that it was opium," said the merchant.
"She could have killed him even with the opium," retorted the colonel, who liked to make digressions, and he began to relate the case of his brother-in-law's wife, who had been poisoned by opium and would have died had not antidotes promptly been administered by a physician who happened to be in the neighborhood. The colonel spoke so impressively and with such self-confidence and dignity that no one dared to interrupt him. Only the clerk, infected by the example set by the colonel, thought of telling a story of his own.
"Some people get so accustomed to opium," he began, "that they can take forty drops at a time. A relative of mine——"
But the colonel would brook no interruption, and went on to tell of the effect of the opium on his brother-in-law's wife.
"It is five o'clock, gentlemen," said one of the jury.