“I didn't sleep last night. I'm all right. Go on.”
During the reading that followed he sat back in his deep chair, his eyes closed. Except that once or twice he clenched his hands he made no movement whatever.
Q. “What is your name?”
A. “Anne Elizabeth Lucas. My stage name is Beverly Carlysle.”
Q. “Where do you live, Mrs. Lucas?”
A. “At 26 East 56th Street, New York City.”
Q. “I shall have to ask you some questions that are necessarily painful at this time. I shall be as brief as possible. Perhaps it will be easier for you to tell so much as you know of what happened the night before last at the Clark ranch.”
A. “I cannot tell very much. I am confused, too. I was given a sleeping powder last night. I can only say that I heard a shot, and thought at first that it was fired from outside. I ran down the stairs, and back to the billiard room. As I entered the room Mr. Donaldson came in through a window. My husband was lying on the floor. That is all.”
Q. “Where was Judson Clark?”
A. “He was leaning on the roulette table, staring at the—at my husband.”