A dull red suffused the young man's dark face and his eyes smoldered as he glanced at the coroner. "I refuse to answer," he said, sullenly.
The coroner shrugged, having won the battle by creating just the impression that he desired, namely that the handkerchief was Ruth's and that for some reason Lee was trying to protect her. I swore softly below my breath at the blunder young Darwin had committed in becoming angered, for though I knew he could possibly have no motive for shielding Ruth, having heard none of the previous evidence, he had yet managed to strengthen the case against her by his strange attitude.
"Mr. Darwin, did you ever hear of Cora Manning?" suddenly inquired the coroner.
Lee Darwin had himself better in hand this time, for his face did not change from its sullen aspect, but he could not help clenching his closed hand tighter until the knuckles showed white through the flesh. That action alone told me that he knew the woman whose name was on Philip Darwin's unfinished will. It also told me that he would deny it. So I was not surprised when he said, a little stiffly, as though he found it hard to speak at all:
"No, I do not know her."
"When you first recognized my official capacity what made you think something had happened to your uncle?"
For a moment he seemed nonplussed, then he answered readily enough, "I suppose it was because I was entering his house and the thought of its master and our last meeting was uppermost in my mind."
"You are sure that it wasn't because you knew beforehand that he was dead?"
I thought he was going to faint, so pale did he become, but he rallied instantly and said, haughtily, "Do you presume to intimate that I killed my uncle?"
"Not at all, since you could not possibly have been in the room at the time," responded the coroner. "I merely wished to learn, whether when you were standing outside the house late last night, you saw what occurred in the study."