He laid the cards down on the table, and, looking fixedly at Dimsdale, repeated: “ ‘Sending report to Mrs. Monkhouse!’ Where was Mrs. Monkhouse?”
“Somewhere in Kent, I believe. I sent the report to the head-quarters of the Women’s Freedom League in Knightrider Street, Maidstone, from whence I supposed it would be forwarded to her.”
For some seconds after receiving this answer the coroner continued to gaze steadily at the witness. At length he observed:
“This is a remarkable coincidence. Can you recall the condition of deceased when Mrs. Monkhouse went away on that occasion?”
“Yes. I remember that he was in comparatively good health. In fact, his improved condition furnished the opportunity for Mrs. Monkhouse to make her visit to Maidstone.”
“Can you tell us how soon after her departure on that occasion the relapse occurred?”
“I cannot say definitely, but my impression is that the change for the worse began a few days after she went away. Perhaps I might be able to judge by looking at my notes.”
The coroner handed him back the index-cards, which he looked through rapidly. “Yes,” he said, at length, “here is an entry on June 11 of a bottle of tonic medicine for Mrs. Monkhouse. So she must have been at home on that date; and as it was a double-sized bottle, it was probably for her to take away with her.”
“Then,” said the coroner, “it is clear that, on the last two occasions, the deceased was comparatively well when his wife left home, but had a serious relapse soon after she went away. Now, what of the previous relapses?”
“I am afraid I cannot remember. I have an impression that Mrs. Monkhouse was away from home when some of them occurred, but at this distance of time, I cannot recollect clearly. Possibly Mrs. Monkhouse, herself, may be able to remember.”