“This is a terrible affair,” said the Senator, after they had exchanged greetings. “Beautiful Mrs. Trevor—so young—so fascinating!”
“It is indeed dreadful,” agreed Mrs. Macallister, with a slight shiver. “The idea of any woman coming to such an end makes my blood run cold. I cannot sleep at night thinking of it. Have you seen the Attorney General?”
“Yes. He sent for me; we were college chums, you know. I never saw such self-control. He is bearing up most bravely under the fearful shock.”
In the meantime, Peggy, sick at heart, was looking about her and thinking of the many handsome dinners, luncheons, and receptions she had attended in the Trevors’ beautiful home. When all was said and done, Mrs. Trevor had been an ideal hostess; for besides beauty, she had tact and social perception, and, therefore, had always steered clear of the social pitfalls which lie in wait for the feet of the unwary in Washington’s complex society. Only the night before the murder, Mrs. Trevor had given a large theater and supper party, and Peggy remembered that she had never seen her hostess appear more animated or more beautiful; and now—“In the midst of life we are in death”; the solemn words recurred to Peggy as she watched the coroner and the jury file into the room and seat themselves around the large table which had been brought in for their use.
To one side, representatives of the Associated Press and the local papers were busy with pad and pencil. Among the latter Peggy recognized Dick Tillinghast. Some telepathy seemed to tell him of her presence, for he turned and his eyes lighted with pleasure as he bowed gravely to her and Mrs. Macallister.
Senator Phillips and Mrs. Macallister were intently scanning the jury. They realized how much might depend upon their intelligence and good judgment. In this case the jurymen had apparently been selected from a higher stratum of life than usual, and Senator Phillips sighed with relief as he pointed to the men sitting at the end of the long table.
“Why did the Lord ever make four such ugly men?” he asked Mrs. Macallister, in a whisper.
“To show His power,” she answered, quickly.
All further remarks were cut short by Coroner Wilson swearing in the jury. Their foreman was then elected. All the witnesses were waiting in the small reception room to the right of the front door. Policemen guarded each entrance.
“Have you viewed the scene of the tragedy, and the body of the victim?” asked the coroner.