“I have only one question, m’lord,” exclaimed counsel for the prosecution, rising. Turning to the witness, he asked: “When was the first occasion upon which you saw the prisoner?”
“Half-an-hour ago.”
“And you positively swear you never saw him before to-day?”
“I do.”
“Witness,” said the judge, “you will give the police a detailed description of the man you saw commit the murder. That will do.”
Mr Roland and Vera were in earnest conversation. He appeared to be dubious about some point upon which she was trying to convince him.
The spectators were eager for the next development of the curious case. They had followed the verbal duel with the same interest as that inspired by a thrilling drama performed by first-class artistes. Several times already applause had almost broken out, and was only suppressed by the dread of the Court being cleared.
“The next witness, m’lord, will be Boris Seroff,” Mr Roland said, glancing hesitatingly at his brief, while Vera retired to a seat where I could not observe her.
“Seroff!” I repeated to myself, “who can he be? Surely he must be a relation of Vera’s; and yet I’ve never heard of him!”
The name was shouted down the corridor outside the Court; then there was a movement among the eager crowd which stood about the door, and a man advanced towards the witness-box.