"Who was that man?"
Mary Anne Thornycroft laid her hand upon her heart, as if pressing down its emotion, before she answered.
"I cannot tell."
"Did you not know him?"
"No."
"Upon your oath?"
Miss Thornycroft again pressed her hands, both hands, upon her bosom, and a convulsive twitching was perceptible in her throat; but she replied, in a low tone, "Upon my oath."
"Then, he was a stranger?"
She bowed her rigid face in reply, for the white strained lips refused to answer. Motions are no answers for coroners, and this one spoke again.
"I ask you whether he was a stranger?"