"No, sir. I did not see her face. She wore a veil."
"Did you notice anything else about her or her dress?"
"She wore a short fur coat and a muff. Her dress was dark. I noticed as I passed by that she was crying under her veil,--sort of sobbing to herself. That made me look sharp. Mr. Fullerton was walking kind of swaggering, with his hands in his pockets."
"Would you know the lady if you saw her again?
"If she wore the same clothes, I might," Donohue answered somewhat doubtfully.
The physician, Dr. Sperry, who had pronounced Fullerton dead, was next called. He testified that he was returning from the concert, and was on Hemlock Avenue when he heard the police whistle. When he saw the crowd gathered on Sherman Street he had thought some one might be hurt, and had gone up to offer his professional assistance. He had found the man dead, with the mark of a severe blow on his temple.
"Dr. Sperry, will you describe the appearance of the wound?"
"It was a bruise rather than a wound. The temple was indented, showing that the delicate bone there had been crushed in. The skin was broken, and the blood had oozed down the left side of the face."
"Should you say that it was the mark of a heavy blow?"
"Yes, or a swinging blow. It was undoubtedly made by some dull instrument, heavy enough to crush, and yet with a metallic edge that cut the skin sharply."