Elkin, by the way, looked ill. When his interest flagged for an instant his haggard aspect became more noticeable.
Ingerman was there, of course. Furneaux sat beside Mr. Fowler. A stranger, whom Grant did not recognize, proved to be the County Chief Constable. There was a strong muster of police, and the representatives of the press completely monopolized the scanty accommodation for the public. To Grant’s relief, Doris Martin was not in attendance.
He told the simple facts of the finding of Adelaide Melhuish’s corpse. A harmless question by the coroner evoked the first “scene” which set the reporters’ pencils busy.
“Did you recognize the body!” inquired Mr. Belcher.
“I did.”
“Then you can give the jury her name?”
Before Grant could answer, Ingerman sprang up, his sallow face livid with passion.
“I protest, sir, against this man being permitted to identify my wife,” he said.
He was either deeply moved, or proved himself an excellent actor. His flute-like voice vibrated with an intense emotion. Thus might Mark Antony have spoken when vowing that Brutus was an honorable man.
“Who are you?” demanded the coroner sharply.