“So far as you know, had your father any enemies?”
“No,” she replied confidently. “He was a kindly, amiable man who disliked nobody, and every one who knew him loved him.”
As she uttered this panegyric (and what prouder testimony could a daughter have given?), her eyes filled, and the coroner looked at her with deep sympathy but yet with a somewhat puzzled expression.
“You are sure,” he said gently, “that there was no one whom he might have injured—even inadvertently—or who bore him any grudge or ill-will?”
“I am sure,” she answered, “that he never injured or gave offence to any one, and I do not believe that there was any person in the whole world who bore him anything but goodwill.”
The coroner noted this reply, and as he entered it in the depositions his face bore the same curious puzzled or doubtful expression. When he had written the answer down, he asked:
“By the way, what was the deceased’s occupation?”
“He was a sculptor by profession, but in late years he worked principally as a modeller for various trades—pottery manufacturers, picture-frame makers, carvers, and the makers of high-class wax figures for shop windows.”
“Had he any assistants or subordinates?”
“No. He worked alone. Occasionally I helped him with his moulds when he was very busy or had a very large work on hand; but usually he did everything himself. Of course, he occasionally employed models.”